If I were a Pokemon
I’d want to be Crabominable
Because no one would enslave me
And fight in a manner intolerable.
Yes, ugliness has benefits
When avoiding death is your aim.
And for you ’90s kids who say its fake:
You should play a more recent game.
Filed under Poems
Bobby was an antelope
That lived out on the plains.
He had a happy smile
To conceal his inner pains
‘Cause though he was an antelope
What Bobby always sought
Was to turn into a camel.
Eventually that’s what he got.
Bobby’s story is inspiring
A lot like Forrest Gump.
He was a horny animal
Who just wanted a hump.
He had a little surgery
And moved to the Sahara.
To his family he said “bye”
And, to his troubles, “sayonara.”
But it turns out as a camel
Bobby suffered from great thirst.
Before he made his change
He should have thought about it first!
So Bobby died alone
Among the cacti and the sand.
He got exactly what he wanted
But it wasn’t what he’d planned.
Bobby didn’t go to heaven,
Nor to limbo or to hell
Because there is no afterlife
For our heroic trans-camel.
So if you really want something
A little or a lot
Use Bobby’s tale of woe
To eliminate that thought!
🐮🐪😁🌵☠️💡💔
Filed under Poems
I imagine if you walked around
Just licking random people
They’d probably throw you in jail.
However, I lack the desire
To test the hypothesis.
I also lack money for bail.
Like oil in a lamp
Your body casts light
On those huddled around you
In the heart of the night.
Made brave by your radiance
We shall never tire,
But I still wonder why
Someone set you on fire…
Filed under Poems
Somewhere around the first year ever
Somebody pulled a very wrong lever
And installed in the heads of the humans to come
What, on paper, looks brilliant but is really just dumb.
When man 1.0 emerged from the ocean
At the dawn of all time he was filled with the notion
That life as he knew it as far as he could see
Was something to be taken seriously
And a serious life, as he deemed at that time
Was to have the most wealth in the light of the lime.
So man 1.0 went on to fight wars,
To invent Gods and whiskey and sliding glass doors
Each sincerely believing his life was endowed
By something that made his life special somehow.
And meanwhile the malfunctions who wanted no power
Would sleep in on Sunday and sing in the shower
And wholeheartedly laugh at the hard-working host
Knowing he who wants least will end up with the most.
And so it continues by chance or by fate
That despite each progressive human update
The lever once thrown has not yet been undone
Thus why so many people have so little fun.
I’ve always admired blue whales,
The largest animals ever
Who traverse the world routinely
And are beautiful, noble, and clever.
And so I became a blue whale
But a good choice, alas, ’tis not been.
I’m surrounded by feminist bloggers
Who just wish they could grow baleen.
Filed under Poems
I think that in a former life
I was a block of wood
Because I like to do nothing
While smelling sort of good,
I’d be hurt if hit by a chainsaw
And I’m warm when set on fire.
My dream is to one day be famous
So next life I’ll be a Goodyear tire
Filed under Poems
Today I decided to test the ability of our future robot overlords. What follows is a poem written by the predictive keyboard in my phone… basically me if I were a robot and not a lazy blogger.
The woman who needs a job
Is a good orange
And the only thing that is not a good idea
Is to be the one you want.
The woman who needs a job
Is a good orange
And orange is a great app
And the only thing that is not a problem
Was the only thing I could see.
The woman who needs to be the daughter
Is the only one I noticed.
About the way you want it:
You are the only thing I want.
Needless to say, I think world domination by artificial intelligence is a long way off!
Filed under Poems
Last year the guys in Hollywood
Passed on the script I submitted
Wherein a disabled janitor
Masturbates and gets her throat slitted.
Now the very same movie
Wins the Oscar for picture, best.
If only I’d introduced a lizard love-interest…
It’s all in the details, I guess!
If you go to prison
It’d probably be lame
If your parents gave you
A come-hither name
‘Cause if your name’s “Maggie”
Or “Dropped Le’Soap AndI’m Gay”
You’re probably in trouble.
That’s why you’re named “Flay.”
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 