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Tag Archives: Truth
Alternate History
It’s the little things in history
That changed the world we know,
Like how we’d all be drinking taxed tea
If it weren’t for that Washington schmo.
What if Egypt hadn’t come along
And stolen Moses’s guys,
Or if medieval barbarians
Had toilet paper (just two plies).
Would the dark ages have ended
If the Visigoths used their head
And gained a tactical advantage
By bein invisi-goths instead?
And what if all this happened
And then Superman got drunk
And flew around the world so fast
That suddenly history stunk?
How would history be different
If this poet were never born?
You’d be stuck with Robert Frost,
Or else be watching porn.
Thus endeth my ideas,
Written down via Roman letters.
But think of how, if things had changed,
This poem would be betters.
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
Cards Against Humanity
I’m asked to finish up a phrase
In this black-boxed party craze,
But I find it’s rather hard to do.
For these cards here in my hand:
In other games, they would be banned
And I don’t know what half of them are. Do you?
Filed under Poems
The Big Question
It was a heavy wait,
A pregnant pause,
As I thought of what to say.
From the force of the blow
I knew I was wrong,
But her butt did look fat in a way.
Filed under Poems
The Quest of the Sleepy
I slept too little
All through the week,
And a healthy 10 hours
Of sleep did I seek,
But I stayed up until midnight
And the sun rose at eight.
Someday I’ll get my 10 hours,
But for now it must wait.
Filed under Poems
On Deception and Burning Pants
“Liar, liar, pants on fire”
Was a taunt I often heard
From kids at school, and parents too
And even a parrot bird.*
So I thought I’d test the theory,
So I lied for 30 days.
Not once in that deceitful month
Did my pants catch in a blaze.
So I look now at the irony
Of a saying people try
To use to discourage dishonesty
Is, in itself, a lie.
Or maybe I’m overthinking again.
* This is a lie. I have never heard a parrot say “liar, liar, pants on fire.”
Filed under Poems
The Best Part of Waking Up
I never drink Folgers,
And I’ll let you know why.
That slogan they say
Is a big stinkin’ lie!
No matter what model
They hire to promote
Their instant coffee,
The chance is remote…
That they’ll realize
The secret we keep:
The best part of waking up
Is going back to sleep!
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 