People say that music
Is the worst it’s ever been.
I disagree because of one song
Written by Herr Beethoven.
If you take his fifth symphony
(That goes Da-da-da duuuuuuuh)
And simply give it the lyrics
“Oh baby yeah, oh baby uhhh!”
It becomes a pop hit
To match the best today.
Here’s a link to prove it.
You’re welcome, by the way.
Helpful hint: Just sing those two lyrics with the melody for about twenty seconds and you’ll get the intended effect.
Filed under Poems
If I had my own country…
Let’s call it Placelandia…
I know exactly
The flag I’d want.
It would be all white
But with black letters
That said “Placelandia”
In the biggest possible font.
I think Placelandia
Would be kinda okay
And help elementary school kids
Get, in geography, an A.
Filed under Poems
I’m burning photographs
Of someone that I loved,
Watching ashes dance
From earth to what’s above
And wondering silently
On how it could have been.
Is unwillingness to forgive
Lack of virtue or actual sin?
I hold his body in my arms…
What’s left of it at least.
Who knew that to a warrior
A simple dog was such a beast?
But now I am alone again
My mind already set
On how I can replace
My unopened* limited-edition Boba Fett.
*Previously unopened… 😭
Filed under Poems
I think a good name for a dog
Is “Help”
Because when you call after it
Other people look at you
And some of those lookers
Are rich and/or sexy
And enjoy the company
Of cheekily named dogs
And their owners…
Just sayin’.
Filed under Poems
Peter picked a peck of pickled peppers.
It seemed to him the decent thing to do,
Then sweated sweetly with some swarthy schleppers
To schlep the peppers way back home to you.
But you, alas, had since left for the seashore
To sell your silly seashells I don’t doubt.
So I went to the park to soothe our offspring.
Didn’t give tidy teeter-totter daughters time to pout.
But somewhere in my heart I felt a tugging…
The tongue-tied tugging you and Jack know well.
I hope it goes away as I fetch water.
But oops! I tripped or slipped. Jill? What the hell?
Filed under Poems
The pot called the kettle black.
The kettle thought the pot was a racist kind,
But then kettle saw that the pot was black too
And, quoth the kettle, nevermind.
Filed under Poems
Hollywood!
(It’s so darn good)
Oh yes, oh yes, I say.
Hollywood!
(Land of falsehood)
Oh yes, oh yes.
Where what’s important aren’t the facts unless they fit into three acts.
The place where fiction goes to diiiiiieeeeeeee!
Where it’s okay to have no story. CGI can bring you glory.
So can manly men who cryyyyyyyyyyyy!
Hollywood!
(Our favorite wood)
Oh yes, oh yes.
They’ve done all they could
(More than they should)
Oh yes, oh yes,
To guarantee that you and me will pay hard-earned money to see
A bunch of actors green-screen flyyyyyyy!
Where shirtless six-packed men are common working at Starbucks, eating ramen
Hoping to be a leading guuuyyyyyyyyyy!
You can’t stop Hollywood!
(Long has it stood!)
Oh no, oh not Hollywood!
(What else rhymes with “wood?”)
Nothing I guess…
And if you’ve ever read the book at adaptations do not look
Because you know they’ll only break your heart in twooooooooooo!
And if derivative plotlines can’t send those shivers up your spines
Well, don’t expect the Fox execs to say boo hoooooooooooo!
They gave you big robotic brawlers
And already have your dollars
So why not make Skywalker say “screw yoooouuuuuuuuu?
So if you’re inclined to feel
You don’t want to keep it real
Then come to Hoooooooo
Llllyyyyyyyyyyyy
Woooooooooooooood….
(Dramatic pause)
Toooooooooooooooooo
Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!
(Olay!)
I think that in a former life
I was a block of wood
Because I like to do nothing
While smelling sort of good,
I’d be hurt if hit by a chainsaw
And I’m warm when set on fire.
My dream is to one day be famous
So next life I’ll be a Goodyear tire
Filed under Poems
Deep in a forest
In some ancient year
Lived the grandest buck ever,
The king of the deer.
His antlers were mountains.
Sun and moon were his eyes.
There was nothing more massive
Or nearly as wise.
He spoke only truths
And healed all ills.
His laughter was music.
His teardrops were hills.
This primeval buck
Made all that’s good, fair, and lush
But his name was “Pookums”
So you don’t hear of him much.
Filed under Poems
A girl whom I admire
Asked me “do you want to go
“To an all-inclusive, safe-space
“Fair-trade, vegan comedy show?”
She said, if not, I could suggest
Something I think’s more fun
Which is why this weekend
I got a colonoscopy done.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 