‘Twas the day after Easter
And the kids were off school
Eating copious sugar
And emitting much drool
When a rabbit emerged
And said “Sorry I’m late!”
Then he hid eggs all over
And hopped over the gate.
The children tried chasing,
But bunnies are fast…
Then it dawned on a child
Who whispered at last
“If the bunny came here
“Today, who was that
“Who brought candy yesterday?”
Thus smiled the Easter Rat.
Filed under Poems
Life’s like an Oreo cookie:
The start and the end are both crappy
But the more stuff you put in the middle
The more likely you are to be happy!
Filed under Poems
“Short people might not play basketball
But that doesn’t mean that they cannot.“
That was the reasoning cited
For making the Kool-Aid man an astronaut.
Filed under Poems
I eye an eye of the aiai,
Upon the visage of the ape
And as I eye the aiai, I sigh
For I’m shocked, yet it’s not yet agape.
Filed under Poems
There once were two boys from Descartes
Who possessed pure and beautiful hearts
Until one rainy day
In a childish way
They learned how to bottle their farts…
Filed under Poems
Sometimes all it takes
To make somebody’s day
Is to flash a cheerful smile
And whisper “Hip hip hooray!”
I tried it out this afternoon
And the data that I got was this:
Prison is not a good place to test
A cheerfulness hypothesis.
Filed under Poems
Perhaps if people possessing purple percherons
Prepared their persons patiently
Purple percherons put in purses
Would prudently pursue purer pursuits?
Filed under Poems
They say Jesus turned water into wine
But there’s an alternative guess I see:
I think Jesus was the inventor of Kool-Aid
But hadn’t perfected the recipe.
Filed under Poems
March is the month where on TV
Are a bunch of teenage guys
Who compete to hold onto their balls
With other men of unusual size.
The best at making balls go swish
Will win. Others suffer sadness,
And that is why they call this event
By the appropriate name, March Madness.
Filed under Poems
My wife thinks I am a spider
And I think she may be right
Because both I and a spider
Make her scream at night.
My wife reminds me of a Nickelback
CD that I play. It
Makes a noise I quite enjoy
Although I’d never publicly say it.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 