Calling someone squeamish
Is more complex than it may seem.
After all, when was the last time
You called someone a squeam?
If someone is Spanish,
Sorta shy-ish, or whatnot
You know exactly what they are
But what’s a squeam?
…
…
…
That’s what I thought!
Filed under Poems
I’m not a competitive person
Like my girlfriend, Eleanor.
We laugh about how competitive she is
But I always laugh more.
——————————————————–
Perfectionists are bad at limbo
But not because it’s tough…
They spend the game complaining
That the bar’s not high enough.
Filed under Poems
I went to the zoo.
There was only one dog there.
It was a shih tzu.
Filed under Poems
Certain things sound like
Exactly what they mean
Like soy latte, pumpernickel,
Kitty, spoof, and spleen.
Other words were chosen
Without their meaning in mind
Like crepe, seizure, pumpernickel,
And the “pay me” version of “fine.”
Filed under Poems
Today I made money
By performing tasks.
That’s why this poem’s late and bad
In case anybody asks.
Filed under Poems
Bob and Jim were terrorists
With three-ounce bottles of shampoo.
Steve and Josh were anarchists
And they each had some shampoo too.
They made a bomb to kill some folks
By pooling all of their shampoo
And they would have succeeded
If Dan, with the nail clippers, had gotten through.
Filed under Poems
In a horror movie
A main character will die.
In an animated movie
Someone’s probably going to fly.
In any recent Disney movie
Someone’ll be the token gay.
In a romantic comedy
No one marries their fiancee.
In a movie with a heist
Someone will dance under lasers.
In a movie set at college
The new kid will meet hazers.
In fantasies, a hero
Will be to a dragon born,
And that’s why I don’t mind
When there is not a plot in porn.
Filed under Poems
Somewhere past the mountains,
O’er the river, by the glade
Is a land of fame and fortune
Where a fellow might get laid.
Somewhere by my bedside
There’s chocolate cake and beer
And a whole day to play Skyrim
So my choice is pretty clear.
Filed under Poems
I’m proud to be half-centaur
And so are my sister and brother.
We have human legs
And a centaur’s torso
And a very satisfied mother.
Filed under Poems
There’s a horde of faceless people
Milling blindly in the road,
Never seeing their solutions,
Never earning what they’re owed.
They are nameless, they are faceless,
And they haven’t got a clue…
If that is what you see of them
Then that’s how they’ll see you.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 