No matter how I’ve managed to sin
Since my life, long ago, did begin
Please forgive me enough
(Even take all my stuff),
Just don’t leave me at the Woodway Inn!
#RetiredPeopleDon’tDropSoap
Tag Archives: Short
No (AKA Why Is Pessimism Such An Ugly Word Anyway?)
If the floor weren’t made of lava
And society wasn’t Hell
And people were polite
And once in a while something went well
And I wasn’t disappointed
By the bills someone probably sent me
And my life wasn’t garbage
Would the glass still be half-empty?
Filed under Poems
How To Make French Toast?
Could somebody help me, perchance?
I’m vacationing somewhere in France
And my most gracious host
Asked to make them a toast
But objected when the eggs and cream got on their pants…
Filed under Poems
The Kaepernick Song
I say you can kneel if you wanna
Before you play behind the line,
But if your political stance
Draws an unpopular glance
Then you’ll be on no team of mine!
Filed under Poems
Hint: I’m Burning The American Southeast In Effigy
It’s my birthday.
The Seahawks lost.
You may or may not draw
An accurate conclusion
Of my happiness (or lack thereof)
Based on that information.
Filed under Poems
But Will The Buck Stop There?
There’s a deer in the bathroom.
Its name, we don’t know.
We’ve decided to call her
By the name of “John Doe.”
Filed under Poems
And The Bells Did Not Chime That Morning
I won’t give you the time of day
‘Cause, of the clock, I’m in the way.
(This line’s just setting up the final rhyme).
You’re the morning-bells’s knocker,
And you’d call me a clock-blocker
Except, of course, you haven’t got the time.
Filed under Poems
In Hindsight, Not A Guy To Cross
Jesus’s phone rang, and so he asked “who dis?”
The voice told him “my name is Judas.”
Looking back on it now
Jesus needn’t’ve said “ow”
If right then he had fled to Barbudas.
What’s A Furry Anyway?
Dogs are lovely.
Cats are not.
I guess It’s inappropriate
To call either of them “hot.”
Filed under Poems
Not A Peppy Pepsi Poem
I wanted to write something witty
About coaxing cans of Coke
Somehow involving slang cocaine
But then my noggin broke.
Now I’m writing a poem
About how my dreams aren’t coming true.
Sounds like 2017
To me. How ’bout to you?
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 