Who drove by a lemonade stand
And thought about it later
And decided, instead of lemons,
The -ade would be better with gators?
Who drove by a lemonade stand
And thought about it later
And decided, instead of lemons,
The -ade would be better with gators?
Filed under Poems
If you took the Bible
And replaced the words “Mommy, look!”
With “I like to eat babies”
You’d have the very same book.
The same can be said for “Croissant,”
And “Wherefore art thou Juliet.”
I find it quite surprising
No one’s written a thesis on this yet.
Filed under Poems
As Dumbledore once said
When called upon to speak:
“I have a few words to say:
“Nitwit, blubber, oddment, tweak.”
These words describe my mental state
It’s been that sort of week.
Filed under Poems
The greatest mistakes man has committed
Are deferring their joy to be wealthy
And the not telling a lie when it was discovered
That eating kale was healthy.
Filed under Poems
If you want to feel sadder
Than you’ve ever felt
Imagine a world
In which cheese doesn’t melt.
Filed under Poems
I discovered a Star Wars easter egg
That no one’s noticed yet.
The Jedi forbid romantic love
In times the prequels set.
This ban on love and marriage
As a staple of Jedi law
Lasted from Yoda’s infancy
To his death on Dagobah.
So the Easter egg I mentioned
That everybody missed
Is Yoda was Disney’s Frog Prince
That no one ever kissed.
Filed under Poems
Wherefore do we seek a verse
From yonder parent, babe, or nurse
To instruct us in verbal mosaic
Both obfuscatory and archaic?
Wherefore, also I must ask,
Do we encourage such a task
Except to inhabit the proverbial sack
With those who a Y chromosome lack?
And yet contests and prizes plenty
Abound for verses-sentimenty.
Especially now that need of a bard
Is largely supplanted by the Hallmark card.
Filed under Poems
Sometimes I like to sit
And feel the wind between my toes,
To plant some seeds behind my ears
And see if something grows,
To boil a pot of water
Then cool it with my breath.
I call it “life with nature.”
Dad calls it “side-effects of meth.”
Filed under Poems
The young bet on clubs
And slowly lose their mind.
The grown bet on diamonds
And what they seek, they find.
The old bet on spades
And in time all follow suit.
For those who bet on hearts
Best be rich, or else be cute.
Yet I drew five jokers…
I’m either destined for greatness
Or I bet on too many clubs.
Filed under Poems
If I weren’t so cynical
I’d probably be equally sad,
Not because I’m cynical
But because the world’s just bad.