Tag Archives: Weird

When The Light Goes Out Things Get Dark

There is one green light bulb

From an old Christmas tree

In the upper-left-hand plastic ring

Of the thingy that holds together

A six-pack of generic-brand cola,

Reclining in an Ohio landfill,

Never again to be lit

Or decorate a house

Or hold public office,

But the bulb is happy

Because it will outlast the family

Who chucked it in a hefty bag

And forgot all about it.

The bulb remembers.

The bulb is patient.

The bulb is all out of mercy…

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Bad Romance

I love you

Like Japan loves tentacles,

Like psychos love murder

And goth teens love pentacles.

I love you

Like Chris Pratt loves his raptors

And people with Stockholm

Syndrome love their captors.

I love you

Like a farmer loves cattle,

Like that one guy you know

Loves leather and a paddle.

I love you

Like Tarantino loves gore

And it’s for these reasons

I can’t see you no more.

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If “The Red Wheelbarrow” Is Good, Why Isn’t This?

Her love made me warm and fuzzy

Like a bit of french cheese

Left in a sauna over the weekend

But, alas, she had fleas.

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Especially If Her Name Is Daisy

My favorite flowers are daisies.

My favorite black president is Obama.

My favorite meal and my favorite animal

Both are the same: They’re yo’ mama.

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You Didn’t Eat Your Broccoli, Thus…

Satan wants to eat your soul for breakfast.

Yeah, that’s a thing that Satan wants to do.

His mouth’s already watering

At the prospect of slaughtering

That tasty human spirit that is you!

Satan wants to eat your soul for breakfast.

I heard him to his Mrs. Satan say

“Hey, why don’t you and me go

“Have some eggs and Human Ego

“As a nutritious snack to start the day!”

Satan has a hunch

That it’s too soon for lunch

And, by that logic, also too soon for dinner.

But they don’t sleep-in in Hell

And to start his day off well

You are the perfect portion size of sinner!

(Everybody)!

Satan wants to eat your soul for breakfast.

He wants to fill his belly with your Id.

I hope you’ve read your Dante

‘Cause you’re what Satan wants. Hey!

That’s what you get for being a naughty kid!

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Filed under Lyrics, Poems

When You Should Have Stopped After The First Weird Limerick

If you grew a six-foot long beard

You’d probably think it was weird

But after a while

You’d probably smile

And think “This ain’t as bad as I feared.”

And if a six-foot beard grew you

It would not know what to do

Because shaving’s a pain

And beards don’t have a brain.

These dilemmas are why I’m not a jew.

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Hint: Probably Someone In Florida

Who drove by a lemonade stand

And thought about it later

And decided, instead of lemons,

The -ade would be better with gators?

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