The school buses are back on the roads
And people are not happy.
They carry children by the loads
And make the traffic crappy.
What if instead of the buses
All the kids just stayed home sick?
Sure, the minuses outweigh the pluses
But the traffic would go quick!
Filed under Poems
I love how someone decided
That they could just combine
Two words and make another word
And act like it was fine.
So came about such portmanteaus
As “Sandpaper” and “Sweatshirt”,
And even though no harm was done
I’m feeling kind of butt-hurt.
And how come some compound words
Need to be hyphenated?
Like cross-eye, but not loveseat?
Is anyone else devastated?
Apparently the jury’s out
And no one cares but me.
I think I’ll solve this once and for all
By founding Germany.
Filed under Poems
Have you ever noticed
How a cat can lie down
On any surface at all
And just go to town,
Floppy, relaxed,
Happy as can be
On the edge of a bed
Or the top of a TV?
I wish I had the power
To flop anywhere
And be totally comfy
And free of all care
But instead I’m in bed now
And my heart rate is spiking
Because my pillow’s a little
Too warm for my liking…
Filed under Poems
What if we made a TV show
For people who love manly heroes
That starred a green, feminist lawyer
And had a budget with multiple zeroes
Who lectures the characters we know and love
And faces no relevant threats?
Oh, and let’s call our core audience ‘bigots’
And see how many millions it nets!
Filed under Poems
No matter how bad a day you had
You’re not as bad off as the guy
Who made an SOS out of rocks beneath the overpass
In case a savior might fly by.
Filed under Poems
What if somebody made a hot dog
But instead of a bun, he
Put a couple of crackers
That tasted like honey
And instead of ketchup
Put chocolate so melty
But something was missing,
Because everyone felt he
Was not doing service
To a long piece of meat
So he replaced the hot dog
With a puffy white treat
Perfectly toasted
Over glowing red coals?
Perhaps I’ll add that
To my recipe goals…
Filed under Poems
Art.
Art is when your self-expression
Is super meaningful and deep
In a way that nobody else understands.
It doesn’t rhyme
Or look like reality
Or sell in Peoria
(Or anywhere else for that matter).
It has imagery in it
Like “Salty red horse”
Or “Spider fingers”
That evoke people’s minds
But don’t make them think.
Art is for people who feel
Or who have a lot of money
That they need to launder
And also lots of wall space.
Art.
Carrier pigeon with orange sauce.
Filed under Poems
From the Earth arises, soft,
The tiny caterpillar
Which, to the baby bird, will serve
As a tiny belly filler.
The baby birds grow big and strong
And humans shoot and eat ‘em
And that is why the caterpillar
Will never defeat ‘em.
Filed under Poems
Socks suck!
That’s an absolute fact.
They make your feet sweaty
And fail to attract.
They’re itchy and tubular,
Brown, black, and white
But if paired with some sandals
I guess they’re alright…
Filed under Poems
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
The Daily Travesty 