One day in ye olde Boston faire
Some guys had a tea party there.
Then some bears mauled them… mean!
33 to 14
And yeah, the analogy ends there.
Tag Archives: Short
If Only The British Had An Army Of Sentient Bears, America Might Never Have Existed #ThingsFootballTaughtMe
Filed under Poems
Lazy Evening… Sue Me
Sitting by the fire
And my Seahawks won today.
Long day, short poem.
Filed under Poems
Let’s Go Brandon
The economy’s so deep in the tanks
That starving kids in Santiago
Are offering prayers of thanks
That they weren’t born in Chicago.
Meanwhile, the Mormons of Utah
And the Amish of Pennsylvania
Are saying “we got to scoot, yah”
And moving to Albania.
Filed under Poems
Now You Know Why DeerDon’t Use iPhones
There once was a buck from Melrose
Who smelled something sweet with his nose.
His friends said “That crap’ll
“Most oft be an apple.
“Forget it. Let’s go out and win does.”
Filed under Poems
Great Historical Figures Deserve Better Than This, But I Wrote It Anyway
There once was a mom from Calcutta
Who was sweeter than suga or butta.
Even she had no mercy
For those born in Jersey
So Jersey boys pray to King Tutta.
Filed under Poems
This Is Why Nobody Bought My Bond Script
Yesterday is faded;
Tomorrow will never come.
Both of these also apply
When I describe your mum.
Filed under Poems
Thursday Night Football
There once were some Illinois Bears
Who played the ex-redskins by O’hare.
They punted and punted
And punted and punted
And who the heck actually cares?
Filed under Poems
Art School Pays Off
Today I drew a cat.
Everyone said “Nice pig.”
They recognized it was an animal
Which, progress-wise, I think is big!
Filed under Poems
It Pairs Well With Ghoulash
There once were some zombies from Crete
Who hungered for sentient meat.
They sat and moaned “braaains”
‘Til a skeleton came
With some brains and said “Bone appetite.”
Filed under Poems
Boy Howdy… I Mean, Um, They Howdy?
There once was a child from Gestalt
Who thought mean words equaled assault.
Someone said “You are male.”
Now that sayer’s in jail
And I ponder who’s really at fault.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 