Tag Archives: Truth

We Won’t Even Go Into The “Mom’s A Virgin” Thing

One of the beloved songs

Is titled “Silent Night,”

Of story of a night where all

Is calm and all is bright.

With the writer of the song

I want to have a chat.

A silent night where all is bright?

What kind of night is that?

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Honestly, Every Baby Name After 2007 Though…

I feel for baby Adolfs,

Judases, Atillas,

Who had to live entire lives

Proving they’re just vanillas

Instead of evil Hall-of-Famers

Whose names they now must share.

On the other hand, how ’bout some killers

Named Peyton, Taylor, Weston, or Blair?

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Thank You! I’ll Be Here All Night

I’ve got another story

That I thought I’d share with you

And unlike most of my others

This one is completely true.

I’m stuck in traffic, driving

Down through Portland, OR.

At one time people thought “let’s go”

But apparently not anymore.

We’re driving behind a Tesla

With a vanity plate

That reads “UNSTPBL.”

Its driver I do hate.

I know most folks are decent

But my opinion’s going askew

Thanks to Mr. 100K a year

Who has 15 IQ.

I could probably go on longer,

And (we’ll see) perhaps I might.

I’ve got 400 miles ’til I get home

And that’s a lot of night.

I’m glad I don’t live in LA,

New York, or Portland too,

But if you’ve got a book I can sign

Come to I-5 exit 242.

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Your Chance To Lose Money Is Finally Here! (Hi Clive)

You could put your money on the Cleveland Browns

For Super Bowl Any-time-in-the-future,

But that wouldn’t help anyone,

Let alone this poetic moocher.

Instead I’ve got a different way

To part ways with your cash

Which is by going to my Patreon

And putting it in my stash.

To those of you whose common sense

Says “but money is important”

And the thought of spending it seems, to you,

A little bit abhorrent

I’d point out that your cash will go

To helping me survive.

Nothing’s really better than supporting the arts

Except, perhaps, being named “Clive.”

But since my name is David

And your name’s probably not Clive either

Hop on over to Patreon

Like you’re an eager beaver.

If you don’t pay, the poems won’t stop;

You’ll still get these Travesties daily.

The only difference is, to get my food,

I won’t have to resort to a gladiatorial melee.

(Which is good because I’m skinny and bruise easily).

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Is My Bed The Nicest Place On Earth, Or Is It Just Tuesday?

Two feet from where I’m sitting

There’s a mighty gale I hear.

I thought a bird hit my window,

But turns out it was a deer.

At the zoo a fish died (drowning)

And some penguins froze to death.

A politician stopped complaining

And turns out nothing rhymes with “death.”

I watched a Chris Rock movie

And not one person cussed

And in exactly fifteen minutes

I have to leave to catch the bus.

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For Those Of You Wondering…

Whether getting or giving,

As long as you’re living,

No matter how epic the thrift

It will always be true…

(Just between me and you)

Life insurance is a bad birthday gift.

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Mr. Infallible and the Plague of Other People

In a very distant city

In some un-noteworthy land

There stood a shabby little shack

Which housed the one all-knowing man.

The man was very happy

Because he knew how to be so,

Yet he had a common problem

And away it would not go.

The problem he experienced

Was, despite his knowing all

The people who surrounded him

Would never heed his call.

A wolf would eat a neighbor,

A child would lose its way;

To the second he’d predict these

Yet the man still had no say.

He knew of no solution

And, knowing all, he knew no hope

So he lived a life of nothing

As a shack-dwelling all-knowing dope.

Yet the answer to his problems

Had been with him all along.

‘Twas the one thing he could not accept…

That, maybe, he was wrong.

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