I asked a tranny dude if he wanted to fight,
‘Cause I figured “He ain’t got the balls, amiright?”
He said “No,” which is fine, but it got really weird
When his girlfriend came forward and I stepped on her beard.
I was going to write seven more verses, but I think you get the point…
Filed under Poems
Middle school classroom:
All is quiet. Someone farts.
No learning today.
Filed under Poems
Once upon a time, some guy
Said “I know what we need!:
“A kinda boring screensaver
“We also have to feed.”
All the other townspeople
Said “That’s as good as it gets,”
And they all went out to buy themselves
Some fish to keep as pets.
Filed under Poems
If you toss a baby bird in water
It will probably die.
If you toss a fish from a nest
It will not learn to fly.
If you’re nice to someone rude
They’ll likely stay a jerk,
Yet the government employs people
And thinks that they will work?
Filed under Poems
Super smart students
Have to pay tons of cash
To take college classes
That mostly are trash.
Super good athletes
Can study for free
And despite low grades get
The exact same degree.
The reason for this
Is confusing to some,
And I’m here to explain
Why it isn’t that dumb…
The purpose of college
I will hereby state:
“To see how much BS
“One can tolerate.”
Filed under Poems
A boring, shirtless-selfie guy
With pictures of his travels
Briefly loves bikini-babe…
A love that soon unravels.
Alas, the love so brief in time
Creates a permanent child.
This all could have been avoided
If Mr. shirtless-selfie smiled.
Filed under Poems
I’ve been thinking lately
About a particular query:
“Does anyone know what’s going on?”
And I’ve finally formed a theory.
Here is that newfound theory
I derived from many factors:
“The ones who seem most confident
“Are dumb, or else good actors.”
Filed under Poems
When I win a Nobel prize
For literature someday
And it comes time for me to speak
I know just what I’ll say:
I’ll thank my one Y chromosome,
And the reason that I’m citing
Is if I’d been born with boobs
I’d have never started writing.
Filed under Poems
If you call yourself a poet
You’re judged by your degrees,
The person who you voted for,
How often you hug trees,
Whether you can rhyme things
Or use semicolons right
And, most important, whether
You have a penis or are white.
I am not a poet,
Though to you that’s no surprise.
I’d rather sleep in Saturday
Than watch the sun arise.
I do not care for wheelbarrows
On which so much depends.
I’m one of the mere commoners
Whom nobody defends.
I write, not for an audience,
But for the ones like me
Who want to dance the rain away
And feel completely free
But have to read a book about
What things are right to say,
Waiting to dance in private
Once the poets go away.
I feel like a geode,
Full of color, trapped in stone,
But thanks to anonymity
I needn’t be alone.
I can be with all of you
And hold you in my heart
By failing to see beauty
In what poets call their art.
Filed under Poems
Some people say I’m not funny.
Some people say I’m just dumb,
But for years a grammatically-incorrect cat who wanted a cheeseburger was the funniest thing on Earth
So I figure my time will come.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 