If I were a possum
And also a poet
I’d write while I’m scared
And the writing would show it;
I’d start a stanza
But when filled with dread
I’d
Tag Archives: Silly
A Meal To Die For
I was in Transylvania
On a foolish holiday
When a vampire decided
To make me not ok.
I saw that he was hungry
But I sought to understand
What filled this monster’s heart
In this spooky far-off land.
He said when he was mortal
He had owned a ranch,
And the finest heads of cattle
Came from his European branch.
He longed for the days of yore
When cooking was an art,
So I cooked him up a ribeye.
It was a steak through his heart.
Filed under Poems
Refute My Logic, I Dare You
Plants are stupid.
Animals are too.
They score poorly
On a test of IQ.
Humans are stupid,
But not as bad as plants
Because they guess more frequently
And benefit from chance.
Filed under Poems
Silver Water
In the shadow of a waterfall
Of moonlight’s silver steam
Was a mist of lunar H2O
In a dazzling metal stream,
Beneath which bubbled puddles
Of the element AG;
The moon was very full, unlike
My repertoire of analogies.
Filed under Poems
And You Thought They Just Slept A Lot And Licked Themselves!
Nobody knows the journey of a cat:
Where they go or what they do,
What secret groves within they sat
Or fearsome vermin that they slew.
No one knows the lives they’ve saved
And the worlds they lost in vain.
Such is the mystery of the cat;
Both majesty and pain.
Filed under Poems
What White Men REALLY Can’t Do Is Rap
They say white men can’t dunk
But neither can a skunk.
Checkmate, punk…
Or so I thunk.
Turns out a chunk
Of white guys don’t stunk
But make the backboard clunk.
Word.
Filed under Poems
Stuff People Like
Cars and sports and guns and sports
And balls and boobs and mustard:
These (plus sports) are what guys like;
Other stuff makes them flustered.
I would write another poem
About what women like too
But they just can’t even anymore
And if you don’t know, they won’t tell you.
Filed under Poems
Stereotypes Are Real
Somebody’s been murdered!
Their corpse was found today
And all the head detectives
Are off on holiday.
The backup sleuths are gumshoing
Where the corpses spine met cutlery
And I’m here, full of regret
At my choice to take up butlery…
Filed under Poems
Bowling
Bowling balls are very hard
And also very round.
When they strike the bowling line
They make a smacky sound,
And when the balls crash into all
The pretty pear-shaped pins
The guy who threw the ball says “whee”
And everybody grins.
Bowling balls have lots of holes
To slide onto your fingers
And when the game is over with
The happy feeling lingers.
You have to wear some public shoes
But that’s okay, I guess.
Bowling’s basically like sex
But doesn’t make a mess!
Filed under Poems
If You’re Reading This Enthusiastically, You’re Missing The Point
Happy happy happy.
Joy joy joy.
Yippee yippee yippee.
Oh boy oh boy oh boy.
I can’t wait. I’m excited.
I’m overwhelmed with wow.
If you think exclamation marks are dumb
You do not think so now.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 