There are some people named “she”
Who want, to a man’s heart, the key
So they wear a disguise
For their tits, hips, and eyes
To find men who will “love me for me.”
There are some people named “she”
Who want, to a man’s heart, the key
So they wear a disguise
For their tits, hips, and eyes
To find men who will “love me for me.”
Filed under Poems
I want a sandwich
With clams, beets, and garlic
Sprinkled with liver and thyme
Topped with two scoops
Of pistachio ice cream
And the zest of a two-week-old lime
All smeared on a loaf
Of gluten-free flatbread
Served on a hard rubber plate.
You get it when you order
A nice BLT.
I call it “The Internet Date.”
Filed under Poems
Even though her legs are hairy
She’s still beautiful.
Just because her jaw is wide
Doesn’t make her unfeminine.
I don’t love her any less
Just because she has eight legs,
Thirty-seven eyes,
And mandibles to store venom in.
I don’t mind her bug-eating thing
Or her webs around the house,
Her association with evil
And summoning of bad lucks.
The only real area
Where her allure could be improved
Is the part where she kills and eats me
After every time she… well shucks.
Filed under Poems
Everything’s fine.
I won’t get mad.
I don’t care about your exes.
I’m almost ready.
I’ll call you right back.
I don’t mind you buying that Lexus.
I really don’t care.
I really don’t mind.
I really (insert anything here).
No, I’m not jealous
And if we get married
I’ll never make you watch Shakespeare.
Filed under Poems
I was a man
And she was not.
She hadn’t noticed me
But I thought she was hot.
I approached her politely
And told her “I’m Dan.”
She was, in hindsight, not pleased
So I got two years in the can.
I remember when men
Were not seen as a foe,
But not anymore
Thanks to Justin Trudeau.
Filed under Poems
Sometimes I wish I were an itch,
An itch that can’t be scratched
So I could bug the ugly thug
To whom you are attached.
Then when you were single
I would steal away your heart
And just like that eternal itch
We’d never be apart.
But eventually you’d hate me
And the scratching I’d inspire
And you’d dump me for some other jerk
Of whom you would soon tire
Then I would swoop back to you,
Your faithful little itch
And maybe this time you won’t dump me?
What do you mean my fetish is niche…
Filed under Poems
If I were a turtle
I would be more fertile.
I’d have more girl turtles to court.
Also nothing but fertile
Rhymes well with turtle
And turtles don’t care if you’re short.
Filed under Poems
“Cyber chickens do not deserve Yolanda”
Was the first thought to pop into my head
When I sat down to write today’s poem
After exiting my way-too-comfy bed.
I don’t know the meaning of that musing
And likely it has no meaning at all
But if you are Yolanda do not settle
For a cyber chicken who isn’t on the ball.
Filed under Poems
When a woman tells you yes
She means it could be so
Unless she’s getting dressed…
Then it definitely means no.
And if a woman tells you no
It is a no, no questions asked
Except when she wants you to be bad
Or do what you have not been tasked.
But the scariest thing you’ll ever
Hear a woman say
Is when she smiles and seems alright
And tells you “I’m OK.”
Filed under Poems