They hosted a party
On the banks of the Styx
For the vice-presidents
And the second-round picks,
The guys who won silver,
Who went out with a flicker,
And all the cheerleaders
Who dated the kicker.
They hosted a party
For the closely defeated
To celebrate those
Who quite nearly succeeded.
I was invited
But stayed home instead
‘Cause I hadn’t stopped trying
And wasn’t yet dead.
Filed under Poems
I’m very proud if my teammate, Ted
Who always… ALWAYS… Gets out of bed.
You really proud of my teammate, Ben,
Who almosy always gets a few out of ten.
I’m really proud of my teammate Jon,
Who really has improved a ton.
But I’m noy proud of my teammate Rick.
Our MVP… What a dick!
Filed under Poems
If “penultimate” means second to last,
And Pennsylvania is not as cool
As Transylvania of the past,
We have confirmed a rule:
“Pen,” the prefix, implies lesser status.
Now I, being a man with taste
Have used the pencils advertised at us
Even though that’s apparently a waste.
I think public education
Could improve the endowment of skill
If we reduced frustration
And gave our kids a cil.
Let’s make our schools the very best:
Use a #1 cil on standardized tests!
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 