A while ago I wrote a poem
About how to be your own son.
Recently, through Jesus,
I wrote another one:
If you are a grandfather
Of your son’s male offspring
I’m happy to report that you
Can do an exciting thing…
If your son joins the clergy
As a Presbyterian
And you go to his church
Your grandkid is your Father’s son.
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Warlords might not be
The sensitive type,
Not ones to use shampoo
Or lotions,
But they’re a lot better
Than pacifists
Who are racist
Against certain oceans.
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When I discovered my gender-neutral parent
Was not my biological dad
I realized it was quite the faux pa.
Yes, this poem is bad.
Filed under Poems
It might mean very different things
When I say to my girlfriend
“I still can’t understand you,”
Followed by: “Come again?”
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I went to the zoo.
There was only one dog there.
It was a shih tzu.
Filed under Poems
If you try to stalk someone
And eventually fail
It would be worth your time
To work some retail.
Filed under Poems
