Whenever I’m awake at night
Not able to go to sleep
I’ll sneak outside so quietly
Without making a peep
And head off to the landfill
Where old car parts fill a ditch
And I snuggle up with a Michelin,
Bridgestone, or BFGoodrich.
You may just think I’m sleezy,
Like my brain somehow misfired,
But it’s the only way I know
To get really good and tired.
Filed under Poems
Korea is a country
I do not know much about.
Japan is a country
Whose cartoon characters look caucasian.
Thailand is a country
That knows what cooking’s all about.
Good China is a country
We only use on special occasions.
Filed under Poems
I have a feather duster
For if my birds get dusty.
I’ve got a picture frame
Just in case I commit a crime.
I’ve got a pizza face
For if I’m feeling crusty.
What I don’t have is a clue
Of how to end this poem in a satisfying way.
I’ve got a hobby that’s really cool
That makes me feel like a man.
I like staring at my roof;
I am a ceiling fan.
Filed under Poems
Don’t send her a breakup text
Next time your love’s in doubt.
Instead you take her to the gym
To show her how you’re not working out.
Filed under Poems
When I throw eggs out the window
While on the motorway
Some jerks honk and curse at me.
That’s what I learned today.
Now if I hit you with an egg
You can honk if you want to
But I don’t mind ’cause either way
In the end the yolk’s on you.
Trusting a serving platter
Is something not to do
Because a serving platter
Will always be-tray you.
You enter the clearing
Where your publisher lives
And wander up to his home.
You’re greeted by
A lovely smell
And ceramic garden gnome.
You didn’t think
You’d leave here rich.
You thought you’d just come for dinner,
But at the Publisher’s
Clearing House
You may already be a winner.
Filed under Poems
Let me tell you
What I saw
While walking in the park:
A naked tree
And silent dog,
Both without their bark.
An ice cream truck
And teenagers,
Both trying to stay cool.
A screaming child
And litter,
Both unwanted in a pool.
The smell of grass
And pollen,
Both filling up my nose.
That girl I dumped
And no hiding place,
‘Cause that’s the way it goes.
A wad of dirt
And my own good arm,
My ex’s now-brown eyes.
Some flashing lights
And handcuffs
Makes me doubt my plan was wise.
A cop’s back seat,
Some iron bars,
A jury of my peers,
Now it’s just me
And “Chainsaw Ted”
For five to seven years.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 