Tomorrow I’m strapping knives to my feet
And throwing myself down a hill.
Then I’ll get on a chair that flies through the air
And do it again for a thrill.
Tag Archives: Short
But Seriously, Who Doesn’t Want To Do This At Least Once?
I think people would be happier
If once a day, for free,
They could take an eighteen-wheeler
Packed with TNT
And have a robot drive it
Into their neighbor’s chrysanthemum
But that’s very illegal
‘Cause the government is dumb.
Filed under Poems
Don’t Question The Logic… Just Enjoy The Conclusion
I think that absolute proof
That a time machine exists
Is the fact that someone went back in time
And found a T-Rex
And said “Aww yeah… T-Rex….”
And then got eaten
And nobody has time traveled since.
Filed under Poems
When Life Gives You Mucus, Make Poetry
I’m still sick after 96 hours,
Plentiful pills, and hot, steamy showers.
I feel lousy, and still poems I write
So give me some pity likes! And with that, good night.
Filed under Poems
English 101
There once was a five paragraph essay
That had one compelling thing to say
Then repeated that message
Twice, then thrice for to stressage
That there once was a five paragraph essay.
Filed under Poems
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Humptulips,_Washington
There once was a man from Humptulips
Who worked in a restaurant for a few tips.
He made decent money
But mostly it’s just funny
That there’s an actual town called Humptulips.
Filed under Poems
Sick Day Haiku
I am sick tonight
Full of aches and pains and snot…
But the bat tastes good!
Filed under Poems
Growing Up
It snowed! It snowed!
Hip-hippidy-hoodle!
It’s fluffy and white
And a plush poofy poodle.
They’ll close all the schools
And as a result
I’ll be even more disappointed
That I’m an adult.
Filed under Poems
When Vegetarians Snap
There once was a Chihuahua from next door
That barked, whined, and then barked more.
Eventually he died
And nobody cried.
In other news, now I’m a carnivore.
Filed under Poems
Making Your Mind Up
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.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 