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.
Tag Archives: Puns
Seeing The Forest From The Treason
Trusting a serving platter
Is something not to do
Because a serving platter
Will always be-tray you.
You May Already Get This Joke
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
Public Spaces
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
Emotion
I’m crying like an onion
At a family reunion,
Laughing like a hyena
Listening to itself laugh,
Questioning everything
Like a / with a stuck shift-key,
Floating like a butterfly,
Stinging like the aftermath
Of an inadvisable romantic encounter.
Chick flicks, eh?
Filed under Poems
Morning Sax
When I wake up in the morning
And look at your sleeping face
I feel like I’ve got everything,
Just like J.P. Morgan Chase.
I know that you’re still sleeping.
Makes sense, ’cause it’s 5:03,
But I just have to surprise you
With the greatest part of me,
And so I whip out my saxophone
And lick the reed ’til it’s damp
Then it’s you and me at 5:03
And a cover of John Mellencamp.
I gave you morning sax!
Comso says it’s great.
I gave you morning sax
‘Cause funky just can’t wait.
I gave you morning sax!
I’d say that’s pretty fly.
I wanted you to say “Oh God yes!”
But I’ll settle for “Oh God, why?!”
When you wake up in the morning
And see my body lying prone
In a pool of hot red blood
Clutching my saxophone
At first you’re shocked and worried
But you throw some coffee down
And remember last night’s victory
As you drive into town.
And as I lie, still bleeding
From the opening in my head
I dream about tomorrow
When I’ll play Kenny G instead.
I’ll give you morning sax!
It’s better the second time.
I’ll give you morning sax!
I’m sure it will be fine.
I’ll give you morning sax!
Sure, it’s a taxing gig
But I just love that moment
When your eyes get so, so big!
I played for you the morning
Of the day I finally died.
When the doctor shared the news
I like to think you cried.
You told me you lack self-control
Before you are awake
And that any more at 5:04
Was more than you could take.
As you call the undertaker
And they ask if you will hold
I only hope that waiting music
Makes your heart a bit less cold.
Now you’ll hear mourning sax!
It don’t mean a thing.
Enjoy the mourning sax!
All you had to do was sing…
There’s no more morning sax!
Let that sink into your brain
As you take five, my satin doll,
Riding home on the “A” train…
(Fading out)
How long will it take to Bari me?
Tenor so minutes.
A little Charlie Bird told me.
I’m on a Coltrane to Hell.
Beavers Aren’t The Only Ones
Let me tell you
Of my beautiful dream
Were all types of rodents
Can block off a stream.
Where pets leave their cages
And go on the lam
To this new river city
We call Hamsterdam.
Filed under Poems
Date Ape
When things go bananas in the bedroom
Don’t you worry. Nothing’s wrong!
You’ve just received the blessing
Of the famous Kinky Kong.
Filed under Poems
This Bugs Me
A solid block of milk
Hits a grown up caterpillar
Who bursts into tears.
The butter flies,
The moth bawls.
Filed under Poems
Two Weeks To Go…
I expect Yoda’ve heard by know
About an awakening in the force.
I hope it doesn’t take after sand,
Getting everywhere, rough and coarse.
This film will be our only hope
No matter how you Luke at it
To see if a stormtrooper main character
Can manage to make a hit.
I’ll be Red 7 standing by,
Not getting forty winks
To see if JJ Abrams
Gets nicknamed JJ Binks.
And so, though there’s two weeks to go
This poet’s had mesa some funs.
Now this poem’s Finn-ished
And I’ll Leia’ff the puns.
Filed under Poems
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