In a world without coyotes
And a scarcity of ginger ale
I’d take comfort in the notion
That my legs would still be pale.
In a world without coyotes
And a scarcity of ginger ale
I’d take comfort in the notion
That my legs would still be pale.
Filed under Poems
There once was a limerick from Nice
That was astonishingly concise.
Filed under Poems
And on the twenty-second day
God said “Let 99 men moisten the grass
“And the hundredth man you shall eschew”.
Even then it was widely known
That one hundred men or more
Could never dew.
Filed under Poems
Today is my mother’s birthday.
Her birth did occur on this date.
In honor of her I caused this poem to occur
And published it moderately late.
Filed under Poems
I wanted to ask a guy to the prom
But alas I’m a thermonuclear bomb.
Were I to go out in a pretty pink dress
I’d make the whole world feel considerable stress
And instead of the dancing and sighing and kissing
Everyone would shout “Hey, there’s a warhead that’s missing”
And before I’d say “Chill guys, you’re all being dumb”
They’d put me back with the uranium.
And so in my bunker I cry and I dream
Of a man who will see me for more than I seem,
Who’ll sweep me away for one memorable night
Even though afterwards the world won’t be alright…
But maybe a man cannot make me complete
And instead I’ll be happy as radiant heat?
Filed under Poems
I found a fun video game
That simulates many ways to die.
The designers overlooked the simple fact
That survival means I’d have to try.
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If I had breath like Godzilla
And my sneeze were a nuclear blast
I still wouldn’t like playing kickball
But at least I’d get picked before last.
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Good morning Mom!
You are the bomb.
You made me exist
Before the CD Rom.
Today we shower you
With abundant aplomb.
You are the WWW
To my .com
You make delicious food
That I like to nom
And you are someone onto whom
I do like to glom.
I promise I’ll never leave you
To move away to Guam
Because I’m your favorite child
And you’re my best Mom.
Filed under Poems
Her epic trapper spidey
Killed my supersonic bat-dragon.
Apparently the divorce is off
And we’re back to love and naggin’!
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Honorable dessert, cake of courage,
Your frosting is noble, your filling is strong.
Honorable dessert, please answer me this:
Is wanting to eat you so wrong?
Filed under Poems