In a world without coyotes
And a scarcity of ginger ale
I’d take comfort in the notion
That my legs would still be pale.
In a world without coyotes
And a scarcity of ginger ale
I’d take comfort in the notion
That my legs would still be pale.
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Honorable dessert, cake of courage,
Your frosting is noble, your filling is strong.
Honorable dessert, please answer me this:
Is wanting to eat you so wrong?
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If I had a nickel
For every time I’ve wanted a nickel
I’d have enough to buy
At least one delicious pickle.
If I had a dollar
For every time I’ve wanted a dollar
I’d be so buried in delicious pickles
No one would hear me holler.
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Whose milkshake is that? I think I know.
Its owner is quite happy though.
Full of joy like a vivid rainbow,
I watch her laugh. I cry hello.
She gives her milkshake a shake,
And laughs until her belly aches.
The only other sound’s the break,
Of distant waves and birds awake.
The milkshake is sweet, cold and deep,
But she has promises to keep,
After cake and lots of sleep.
Sweet dreams come to her cheap.
She rises from her gentle bed,
With thoughts of kittens in her head,
She eats her jam with lots of bread.
Ready for the day ahead.
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It was a normal day in the white house,
Or so President Smellingsalt thought…
Until the sky opened and blood rained down
Like the street corner prophets were taught
And a sprig of an herb, aromatic and pale
Smote the Earth and declared “I’m your master!”
And the humans proclaimed, “Oh no! What the heck!
“It’s basil that’s somehow Alabaster!”
And the basil proclaimed from celestial height
“Yes, people of Earth. Your statement is right!”
But what happened next to the humans did shook ‘em…
The basil declared “I am from Flaccidpookum!”
After that day life was largely the same
Except people drank a lot more hoppy beers.
The saddest part is this poem’s more original
Than anything Hollywood’s made for the past dozen years.
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The stuff that makes wine
May grow on a vine;
The stuff that makes mead
Is what the bees need;
The stuff that makes leeches
Can be found on beaches;
But what makes my mind go
No one ever will know.
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“There’s no such thing as magic”
Is what the stranger said,
So I dropped the pulsing rainbow orb
And hit him with a pan instead.
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Tomorrow we’ll dress up
And take candy from strangers
Then listen to music
About Santa and mangers
But tonight we’ll eat ice cream
And go to Ikea
And buy toilet paper
For Tuesday’s diarrhea.
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A giant electric windmill met Sisyphus
And asked, “Do you like music, man?”
Sisyphus said, “Anything but rock and roll.”
The turbine said, “I’m a big metal fan.”
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God has a sense of humor.
Ask me how I know!
I see proof in everything,
Like how the falling snow
Looks like the Millennium Falcon
Even before it was a thing,
Or how when we eat too much
Our butts spontaneously sing.
I like that sense of humor,
But one thing I don’t find funny
Is how, when I fart, my gas is free
But I still pay for gas with money.
Filed under Poems