A polar bear showed up today
Covered in blood, he smiled: “Hey!”
Think of why. What’s that? You can’t, huh?
Maybe it was ’cause I mentioned “Mall Santa…”
This poem was intended for December, but apparently you can’t schedule a post that far in advance. Just don’t read this for 270 days, ok?
We’re locked in our houses
Away from the world,
As our lives come unfurled.
As we wipe down possessions
The thing I don’t get
Is why “Spring Cleaning” jokes
Aren’t popular yet.
I’ve been working the suicide hotline
For the better part of a year
But when someone says
“I want to jump in front of a car”
I can’t help but say, “Oh deer!”
I was a cock a huntin’
For a wily, free-range hen
I needed a set of wheels
That appealed to chicks, so then
I went to get a car loan
And I jumped through a hoop.
Now I’m clucking happy
Crossing the road in my chicken coupe.
Men want to talk about grape yogurt.
Women want to talk about patriarchy.
Men like talking about grape culture.
Feminists dislike the letter “G.”
My ducks were quacking noisily,
That’s as close to “In a row”
As my ducks ever get.
My mother told me
“You know you’ve hit rock bottom
“When you spank statues.”