I met a girl
I thought was nice.
Turns out she was a witch.
She said that I
Was quite a catch.
‘Tis the life of a golden snitch.
Tag Archives: Stupid
At The Butcher
Everybody’s yelling
About Nazis, hate, and Trump
And I’m just giggling to myself
‘Cause somebody said “rump.”
Filed under Poems
Brought To You By Guest Author “Cal Endar.” (Not Really)
I want to talk about the months
And where their names came from.
Please know all of these are true
Even if they sound dumb.
Jan and Ferb Uary
Were brothers who shared a belle.
Jan got mad and misspelled Ferb’s name
But it all ended up pretty well.
March is based on Mcdonald’s logo.
April was the belle Jan and Ferb liked.
May is a grammatically better version of “can.”
June’s the month that nobody liked.
July was Julie, but was sad about Ferb
And got misspelled too ’cause she was so stressed.
August was named by a Texan who
In his accent said the words “I guessed.”
September was God’s gift to calendar’s everywhere.
October was named by someone who thought Ctober was lame.
Nov and Dec Ember were also brothers
But are last in the year ’cause they both had a stupid name.
I hope you feel more knowledgable
About months, but you probably don’t.
I hope you share this with your friends
But if you’re a smart person you probably won’t.
Filed under Poems
My Coming Out As Trans-Elderly
Thirty-seven dollars in nickels
Rolled into neat little stacks:
I’ll use them to buy some dill pickles
To eat for my mid-morning snacks.
I’ve got a compulsion to do this,
Though no logic yet as to why.
Perhaps I just want the grocers
To think of me as “that guy.”
Filed under Poems
Zero Weddings, A Funeral, And A Reasonable Question
This evening we sit
In memory of
A weekend that
We came to love.
‘Twas two days long,
Five days too short.
Why’s there no satisfying
Single player sport?
Filed under Poems
Wherein A First-Time Internet Dater Realizes Honesty Is Overrated
I have no ambition,
Motivation, manly vigor.
I have very little money
And just three inches down there.
I wish I were more macho,
Richer, smarter, or just bigger
But your ad said if I’m honest
Then you really couldn’t care.
Filed under Poems
How I’m About To Meet Your Mother… Or Big Chad, The Inmate
As if unprompted, she said
“I am not a chair! Don’t sit on me!”
I’m not inclined to sit on strangers
But now I kind of want to see…
Filed under Poems
