There once were some people with torches
Who sat upon their front porches
And cried “People with pitchforks
“Are evil and rich dorks”
While the real evil people ate bortsch.
There once were some people with torches
Who sat upon their front porches
And cried “People with pitchforks
“Are evil and rich dorks”
While the real evil people ate bortsch.
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One person’s trash is another man’s treasure
Which is why every single raccoon
Is living the life with their hot raccoon wife
As a billionaire garbage tycoon.
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I had a lovely afternoon
About which you’ll never hear
Because I’m saving the clever poems
For probably sometime next year.
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Shortest day of year
Then Grandma says “anal cyst”
Feels much longer now
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There once was a break in my work
When I didn’t have to go to work
And my days had no work
And the absence of work
Was accentuated by not going to work.
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The big bad wolf went down to the coop
Where the farmer said “There’s 38 genders.”
The wolf ain’t ate no chickens so far
But he ate the chicken tenders.
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Wrapping paper tube
In my mind a light saber
Wife is not impressed
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There was an insurance exec
Who got shot in the street. What the heck?
But instead of mass fear
Folks just let out a cheer,
Now relieved of one pain in the neck.
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It’s the holiday season
Which is great for this reason:
It’s the only time of the year
That fully guilt-free
You can cut down a tree
And tell people “Don’t come in here!”
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It’s Friday night
And I’ve learned a bit
About Christmas trees
And how they fit.

Filed under Poems