Today I Will Sexy (A Morning Mantra)
Sexy do how sexy be
So find what sexy makes you free!
Sexy be what sexy is
So strut that simple sexy biz!
Sexy is as sexy do
So set some sexy standards, you!
I am the ghost
Of your media post
Which you gave second thought and deleted
I know what's at stake
(To look perfect and fake)
But you came off too real, I'll concede it
When art reflects life
But the content's not rife
That's a good way to feel quite defeated
So trim, pimp, and preen
Till your story looks clean
And I'll send you the thumb that you needed
Look At It This Way
Everything happens for a reason
Usually the reason is 'you seemed too happy'
When one door closes, one opens
And a bunch of mosquitoes just got in, nice
There are other fish in the sea
Also unexploded naval mines and sharks
Two wrongs don't make a right
I'm thinking you didn't want to be right though
Don't sweat the small stuff
Sweat the big stuff until the small stuff becomes the big stuff
and there's new small stuff to not sweat
Look at the glass half full
Of turd juice
Life is measured in fucks
Fucks you give
Fucks given to you
Shit fucking situations
The people you fucked up
Those who fucked you over
The times you moaned 'fuck...' into a pillow
The times you screamed 'FUCK' into a pillow
Life is measured in fucks
So, fuck it
We break our wrists to pat our backs
And starve our hearts (till they attack)
We fetishize the toiled drudge
And boil dreams to vile sludge
We rush to live and see and do
And push to love and be and view
When all is settled, said, and done
Let's hope we had some god damn fun
I will not pine for days I've worked
I won't lament my duties shirked
And when my time becomes a wrap
I bet I'll wish I took more naps
Mary had a little plan
To fleece and steal and rob
And everyone that Mary called
Was perfect for the job
Humpty Dumpty'd take a fall
Distract the local fuzz
Peter Piper'd pack the heat
Cuz that's what Piper does
The Muffin Man's the rendezvous
Old Drury Lane's the spot
We'll stash the dough inside
The little short and stout teapot
The job was set but someone snitched
The answer's not complex
Jack broke first and spilled the beans
And Jill came mumbling next
Sometimes the city chews you up
And spits you out
Sometimes the city swallows you whole
And that's that
Sometimes the city savors you for a little
Rolls you around on it's tongue
And before you realize it
You’ve been completely dissolved
Sometimes the city didn’t even have you on the menu
And you go bad before you’re ordered
If you feel like it’s making a meal of you
Hold on tight
Don’t let yourself get cut into safe little pieces
If it wants you
It’ll have to choke on your ass
2 cups of flour
3/4 cup of sugar
A big thick stick of butter
(Damn, that’s hot)
A couple flicks of salt
Just a tease
Vanilla extract, as much as you can handle
Now stir that shit
Get rough with it
The oven's not the only thing pre-heated
Have a little taste
Lick that spoon, shit
Now pound those sweet things onto the sheets
Slam 'em in there
(Fuck, oh fuck,)-
Oh fuck we burned them.
Salty Fisherman Testifying
I swear ter tell the truth
So help me 'ol peg leg
And while I'm under oath
I SAW THAT MERMAID, CRAIG
/ \ / \
/ \ / \
/ \ / \
The puppets sang and danced and played
Delighted, awed, and entertained
They made you laugh and made you cry
But when they bow and wave goodbye
Their handlers think the darnedest things
(They aren't sure who had pulled who's strings)
New Year’s Revolution
I might not get rich
I might not lose weight
I might not find love
I might not feel great
I might get upset
Some dreams may fall flat
This year I resolve
To be cool with that
The Bath King rules with soggy fist
His throne room seeped in luke-warm mist
He keeps his Chancellor scrubbed of muck
It’s easy (he’s a rubber duck)
His kingdom spans across the tile
(It’s export: half used bars of Dial)
He writes new laws by candlelight
His edicts tracing bubble’s flight
He’s warring with the Dread Lord Kirk
(His roommate needs to go to work)
But Bath King’s settled for the siege
His coffer’s full of wine and cheese
Incessant banging from the Kirk
Can’t wipe the Bath King’s royal smirk
He knows the regal door will hold
(At least until the water’s cold)
Don't Sell YourShelf Short
Selfish Sally spends her savings solely on herself
She hoards her time like shiny dimes in jars upon her shelf
She found someone to spend her time upon and sold her shares
Now Selfish Sally's selfless, shelf-less, shattered, sad, and square
‘You can be anything you want if you just work hard
and believe in yourself.’
-An adult who’s maybe projecting a little
‘I made poopie!’
-The person who’s going to cure cancer, probably
‘I promised myself I wouldn’t doo-hoo.’
-Statler, at Waldorf’s funeral
‘I don’t understand.’
-Someone who understands but doesn’t like it
-The guy who’s speech was after the Gettysburg Address
‘Anyone could make that’
-A person who did not make that
A flavor torpedo
Take aim for my mouth and let loose spicy heat-o
My taste buds will marry their one true love sweet-o
A meat-filled tuxedo
My stomach is dressed to the nines sharp and neat-o
You make me complete-o
Let Me Sleep
I think I'm in a coma
And here's how I can tell
This body's naught but soma
Cuz things are going well
You losers should know!
From tip of my wand to my big magic toe!
You morons are stuck being normal and bland,
I freely cast all the spells at my command!
And for my first charm, I shall cast
The jinx must have worked, my friends all disappeared...
Squash the Vote
That we picked
No one likes
Santa yelled 'alright, you clowns,'
(His festive ego knows no bounds)
'I don't need anyone but me,
So suck my decked out Christmas tree!'
Now Dasher's drinking naughty nog
And Dancer's smoking yuletide log
Prancer's fucked but he won't listen
Vixen's eyes are glazed and glisten
Comet's puking on himself
Cupid's puking on an elf
Donner's doing party tricks
Blitzen's talking politics
Rudolph's on a frosty roof
He's worried from his head to hoof
He wants to help his jolly friend
But thinks that this may be the end
For Santa got his fat ass stuck
He's pissed as hell and drunk as fuck
His reindeer quit, his elves won't hear it
Now he's blitzed on Christmas spirit
That's the story, girls and boys
Of two things: First, why there's no toys
And second: to be kind and wise
Or all the help will unionize
BUS IS MEGA
BUS IS TALL
BUS EAT GAS
BUS BUST ASS
SAY BUS LATE
SAY BUS HATE
BUS LIKE VALLEY
BUS LIKE HILL
MOST OF ALL
BUS LIKE KILL
Slate your name - say something while we objectify you
Be subtle - we'd cast mannequins if we could
Make it your own - write the script for us
Be quirky - be Tom Middleditch
Have fun with it - write the script for us as Tom Middleditch
Versatile - is currently breathing
Relatable - medium ugly
Ed Helms type - just kidding Tom Middleditch
Ode To A Sad Falconer
My falcon up and flew away
He took off from my arm today
I waited with my hand raised high
But saw no action in the sky
It can not be disloyalty
(I treated him like royalty)
He went due north, what’s straight ahead?
An airport? OH MY GOD HE’S DEAD
Who’s gonna split my jerky sticks?
Who’s gonna watch the nature flicks?
Without him I’m a one-gloved nerd!
(I love you bird)
An Open Letter To My Social Anxiety
People are silly and awkward and stupid
and everything's funny and quite convoluted
and everyone’s drowning pretending they’re swimming
so hold your nose shut and jump in while its brimming.
Cuz thinking and shrinking and drinking to vanish,
and putting up fronts to embolden your plan(ish)
and aims to not make bad impressions befall
will beget you to make no impression at all.
Takes his aim at those who need to heal
Finds it funny making people feel
Has no grace nor wit nor charm nor class
Take your arrow, shove it up your ass
The greatest story never told
Delights the young, astounds the old
it makes you gambol, makes you gasp
Unlocks your heart with broken clasp
It's full of love
(both good and bad)
It peaks and dips, but notwithstanding
You’re the writer.
Stick the landing.
If I were a geologist
I'd give you some coal
And explain how a diamond is carbon under pressure
and that'll we'll get through this and be stronger for it
If I were a physicist
I'd give you a bucket with water
And show you how centrifugal force proves that when
a lot of things are in motion it may feel crazy
but the important stuff stays put
If I were an astronomer
I’d give you a telescope
And we’d talk about what a beautiful and devastating allegory
it is that lots of the stars we worship are already dead
But I'm a comedian
So here's a fart joke
Come to my improv show tomorrow night?
Last time I played a geologist who fucked coal into diamonds
The Council of Dogs
They meet in secret
Fear betrays their joy
They have to know
Once and for all
Just who is a good boy?
Some fish grow to the size of their environment
So if they stay hidden
They don't get any bigger
But also then no one tries to fucking eat them
I don't know
Stay the course, I guess
When I Hit Predictive Text A Bunch (A Poem)
Yeah that's cool stuff
I'll check out some stuff
But I'm still at the practice tonight
I'm not going on
Or maybe I am
Or maybe I'll have a bit late
To show me that I'm sorry daddy
And you're a big daddy
And father daddy protects the daddy
Big papa father house daddy papa
Protect the daddy house protect daddy papa father
Daddy big papa daddy big daddy house daddy
Papa father protects
My hart dun broked
Its al dang fukd
I'm sitin here
Al gotdam stuk
I fel lik bronco
Lik rabits foot
Aint got no luk
I wrot dis thing
Cuz I'm dang sad
I did not kno
It fel so bad
Wen yu mes up
Wat that yu had
(I kised my hors
An he got mad)
The Bus Is A Metaphor
Under the bus
My problems go
So I can save some face
No one is left
To drive this thing
And now I'm stuck in place
Dirty ass sewer bird
Big-dicking around the park
Like the whole world owes you something
Offensively stupid gutter fowl
Sticking your filthy chest out
Like you didn't just try to eat a rat turd
You obnoxious, ugly step-child of dinosaurs
Heaving your grubby body skyward
Making an absolute mockery of flight
Teach me how to be as cool as you
Glistening glittering gems
Fragile bits of starstuff
Wispy, muted, soft erasure
Wrapping the earth in cozy silence
Drunk as fuck
Cackling a shit-faced challenge to the moon
Taking a huge hot piss all over everything
Where to Keep Stuff
Friends - close
Enemies - closer
Potential Killer - really super close
Peanut Butter - cool, dry place
Feelings - inside you (never let them out)
Mattress - above box spring
Eyes - on the prize
Family - N/A (could be friend, could be enemy)
Makes No Difference
When shooting stars pass by the earth
They wish upon us too
Guess everybody wants to be
Less ‘them’ and much more ‘you’
Excerpt From the Diary of Sir William Highfalutin
The dragon was vicious
I shook in my britches
It roared, ‘I eat human flesh golden delicious!’
I was quite suspicious
That I was nutritious
But telling the beast’d probably be inauspicious
My mind so capricious
To think fate propitious
For only to come to an end so flagitious
Ah, me, avaricious!
(Note: The remainder of the diary was burnt away, thank god)
Commencement Speakers 2017
His shaky sweaty fingers found the water glass at last
He had no business speaking to the graduating class
He looked into their eyes and mumbled (after a small cough)
'I honestly had no idea that bitcoin would take off.'
Frosted Flakes - Moist Sugar Dandruff
Cheerios - Tiny Plain Donuts
Raisin Bran - Raisin Bran 2 (The Reckoning)
Fruity Pebbles - Chewed Up Fruit Loops
Lucky Charms - Marshmallow Appropriation
Trix - Let The Rabbit Die Cereal
Cookie Crisp - Literally Stale Cookies
What happens when a theater shuts it’s doors for one last time?
When guffaws gamboled willy nilly fade into the grime?
When goofy shadows dance in half-remembered pantomime?
And squeaks and squawks of rusty dusties peal a final chime?
They say two deaths await a soul, the physical is first
The other is the final time your name is thought or cursed
And though the space has passed, it’s stage finds second life anew
That stupid goddamn treasure’s run will live as long as you
Jump to conclusions
Fall from grace
Leap of faith
Jacknife of serendipity
Stop drop and roll to liberties
Cannonball from charm
People's elbow of fortune
The worm to diligence
Hotdogs are gross sacks of meat
Filled with extra stuff no one knows what to do with
Dressed up all pretty to trick you
First the first time in my life
I know who I am
I am hotdog.
A bunch of old friends who engage in group sex,
Stumbled upon a nice playground at rest,
Played willy-nilly, then like men possessed
Sorted the area at my behest.
A set of swing set swing swinging swingers
set a set of swung swing set swings.
A tiny cutting instrument
Destroyed a toy so intricate,
It hacked with evil sentiment
And seemingly, no stimulant
See a small saw saw a small see-saw.
Grandma is thankful for time with her kin
Father is thankful he bought enough gin
Sister is thankful the kid’s table’s gone
Uncle is thankful the football game’s on
Brother is thankful the baby took naps
Puppy is thankful the baby throws scraps
Though the whole family is silly and quirky
Everyone’s thankful (except for the turkey)
The Ides of March
Revenge - cold
Tennis - overhand
Infidelity - on a bed of lies
Jealousy - very salty
Betrayal (Caesar Style) - no spoon, no fork, twenty knives
Legal Documents - with a cool catchphrase
Drama - family portions
Fajitas - sizzling
I was slapped by a dozen purple blossoms
And in that moment
My bouquet of violets
A bouquet of violence
Lobster Fest Official Statement
Lobster Fest is canceled, folks
Due to a heinous prank
Someone dunked the clown into
A boiling water tank
Mirror me spoke up today as I was popping pimples
'How's it going, loser me?' he said with grins and dimples
'This side of the mirror I'm a rich and happy bloke!
Must be tough for you since you're so sad and oh so broke!'
Mirror me stood tall and smug, but wilted when I said,
‘Must be nice, too bad you've still got my face on your head.'
Cheers to my years, blowing past like a geyser
After this drink I will be one drink wiser
Cheers to my peers, those who call me a friend
After this drink we shall all cheers again
Cheers to my tears, falling steadfast and sure
After this drink I will cry for one more
And cheers to my fears, singing negative song
After this drink I'll go prove your ass wrong
When someone farts on the subway
It turns into a murder mystery
It's probably the dude with the giant mustache
Or the homeless guy dressed like a butler
Or the lady eating a rotisserie chicken with her bare hands
Everyone looks around surprised
But one of us is a fucking liar
At any rate
No one leaves until we get to the bottom of this
They say that a butterfly flapping its wings
Can cause quite a number of ruinous things
The wind it displaces might grow in a hurry
And build to a storm that destroys with such fury
A small simple stretch from a Monarch or Snout
Is enough to cause earthquake, tsunami, and drought
But what they don’t tell you (and that which is true)
These flutters and ripples cause good events too!
When landing your dream job you shouldn't chagrin
It was due to a butterfly browsing Linkdin
And when you get lucky and laid, there’s no doubt
It was due to a butterfly rubbing one out
The little bug waving it’s wings to and fro
Are why we have movies like Dunkirk and Blow
So in all things good, bad, and neutral it’s shown
A butterfly acts as our wingman unknown
Shoes have tongues and books have spines
So when you see an act unkind
Stand up for what's good and right
Or else you're Crocs or worse, Twilight
I picked up a pet from the local pet store
And I'm not really sure if it's dog, fish, or boar
It has feathers and fur and some whiskers and tails
And it screeches and squawks as its gambols and flails
It slouches and mumbles and bites its nails raw
It chews very loud, its clothes don't match at all
It never says 'sorry' or 'thank you' or 'please'
And it won't wash its dishes or cover a sneeze
It talks through the plot points of movies we watch
And it spreads when it sits (so to aerate its crotch?)
The longer I ponder the more I believe
That my new furry horror may be a pet peeve
Carpe Diem - seize the day
Carpe Denim - seize the rugged outerwear
Carpe Diadem - seize the horocrux
Carpe Deist - god seizes nothing
Ouroboros - a snake eating it’s own tail
Oreoboros - a double stuffed cookie eating it’s own cream filling
Orzo Borris - a Russian man eating his own short-cut pasta
Aouros Borosealis - a dazzling natural light display
eating it’s own positively charged photons
C’est la vie - such is life
C’est la via - such is my ride share service
C’est lobby - such is the entrance to my apartment building
C’est la de la ba di - such is the Eiffel 65 hit single ‘I’m Blue’
I chipped a tooth, I snapped my wrist
I broke my toe and got a cyst
I lost all hearing and all sight
And now I have an overbite
My hair fell out, my knees are shot
I got a fever running hot
I'm covered now in rash and scab
And all because I tried to dab
Let this be a lesson, son
Being cool is not much fun
It's raining men
What did we do to deserve this?
They are trying to explain rain to each other as they fall
Just the concept of rain
god is dead
That's not thunder, they're high-fiving
That dude is somehow manspreading the sky
One of them is hitting on a curvy cloud
Where did they all get vape pens from?
This is how it all ends
I'm full of poise, I'm full of grace
I'm full of charm and wit.
And much like most who brag and boast
I'm full of fucking shit.
Capt'n had a map
The 'x' was marked, but wrong
The greatest treasure of them all
Was in us all along
So Capt'n looked me up and down
(The rest ye probably guessed)
He didn't get my purple prose
And stabbed me 'treasure' chest
when you are jolly
you look like a collie
you jump up and down
and you beam ear to ear
when you are spellbound
you look like a greyhound
you cock you head sideways
and listen so dear
When you are smug
You look like a pug
You face scrunches up
and your grin becomes clear
when you are horny
you look like a corgi
cuz you are a corgi
I have sex with dogs
The Monster Under A Teenager’s Bed
I am a beast
of a nightmarish class
I have scales down my tail
and a nice supple ass
I am putrid and vile
and fueled by my hate
except for my ass
like I said that’s real great
I will feed on your fear
and your raging hormones
I will rip off your flesh
and I’ll twerk on your bones
the bump in the night
when you wake with a snap
is the sound that you fear
when my fat booty claps
and the last thing you’ll see
‘fore the darkness takes hold
are my gleaming red eyes
and my super tight folds
and the question you’ll ask
when you wake with a scream
‘were the things you saw real
or another wet dream?’
Casey Is the Bat
The Mudville 8 were out of luck, for Richard Sprat was hurt.
He broke his ankle sliding poorly into home base dirt.
Without a team of nine the Mudville brave, a forfeit faced.
The crowd of 13,000 wore their colors with disgrace.
But on the board an unfamiliar name replaced ol' Sprat,
A 'Casey Wood' was playing third and he was next to bat!
The fans all stood and craned their necks to see this Casey boy,
And when they got a look of him they roared unbridled joy.
They didn't roar because he was a man of strength or good,
For Casey wasn't man; he was a goddamn piece of wood.
The other team protested, but their anger was in vain.
There were no rules against a baseball bat playing the game.
Casey stood but three feet tall; he was a rod of oak,
He had a pair of googly eyes in some attempt at joke.
The ball boy propped our Casey up, the umpire signaled 'start',
The pitcher threw a heater and the first strike was a dart.
The bat was unconcerned, he showed no signs of shame or fear,
The crowd was loud and cheered him on, but Casey had no ears.
The second pitch was called strike two, and they began the cry,
A glorious Mudville chant, 'C'mon now Casey, hit it high!'
And as pitch three came to the plate the wind knocked Casey down.
The deed was done, the bat was out, the hero of the town.
The crowd came to their senses and they murmured in dismay,
'I can't believe we thought a fucking bat would save the day.'
Millennials Are Killing The Proverb Industry
The grass on the other side may be more green
But it's 1080p on my new tv screen
A stitch in some time may in fact save you nine
But just buy a new sweater on amazon prime
Don't count your chickens before they do hatch
Unless it's a pre-ordered fresh direct batch
The early bird may get the wormy most sweet
But the early post doesn't get many retweets
The dusty musty book embossed
A thousand years of knowledge lost
It's edges worn, it's paper shorn
Containing dearths of facts forlorn
It opened with a crinkle crack
It's pages slowly peeling back
It’s finder, sick, here searched for clues
From Doctor’s words on what to do
The book contained (within it’s spine)
A dogma of forgotten time
An artifact of age gone by
Before the ash became the sky
She read its ode and fell with grace
Thin lines of pain upon her face
Her final words felt like a noose,
‘We should have listened to The Seuss’
A person’s a person, no matter how small
Romeo & Cigarette
SCENE II. Outside Capulet's Bodega.
But, soft! what light through yonder Deli breaks?
It's nicotine, and Cigarette is my fix.
Arise, fair fix, and kill this envious jones,
Which is already sick and pale with grief,
That thou her maid art far more fun than she:
It is my lady, O, it is my brand!
O, that she knew she were!
CIGARETTE enters, coughing profusely
She coughs yet she says nothing: what of that?
Her lung discourses; I will answer it.
I am too bold, 'tis not to me she hacks:
See, how she leans her filter on the floor!
O, that my lips would sit upon that floor,
That I might suck that butt!
O, speak again, bright menthol! for thou art
As glorious to this buzz, being o'er my head
As is a wing'ed messenger of heaven.
O Romeo, Romeo! whatfore smoke thou Romeo?
Deny thy doctor and refuse thou quit;
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I'll no longer be a bad habit.
(Aside) Shall I hear more, or shall I spark at this?
'Tis but bad press that is my enemy;
Thou art thyself, though not a marlboro man.
What's marlboro man? it is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, smoke some other line!
What's in a name? that which we call a cig
By any other name would smell like shit;
So Romeo would, were he not smoker call'd,
Retain that dear addiction which he owes
Without that title. Romeo, fuck thy health,
And for sobriety, no part of thee
Take all myself.
I take thee at thy word:
Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized;
Henceforth I’ll never puff another fag.
My filter's not not been kissed a hundred times
from that tongue's countenance, yet I know the sound:
Art thou not Romeo and a marlboro man?
Neither, fair shaft, if either thee dislike.
How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?
With love's light wings did I o'er-perch thine pack;
For cellophane wrap cannot hold love out,
If you do smoke me, they will murder thee.
Alack, there lies more cancer in thine tar
Than twenty of their swords: look thou but lit,
And I am proof above their influence.
By whose peer pressure crave'st thou of my butt?
By love, who first did push me to a toke;
I bumed a pall mall and he hooked me thus.
But trust me, Marlboro man, I'll light more true
Than those that have more packed into their tubes.
ROMEO points to a sign that says ‘Beer’
Lady, by yonder neon sign I swear-
O, swear not by the sign, the fluorescent sign,
What shall I swear by?
Do not swear at all;
Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy ashtray mouth.
Wilt thou leave my cravings unsatisfied?
What satisfaction crave'st thou of to-night?
The exchange of thy love's stinky butt for mine.
I hear some noise within; dear love, adieu!
Anon, cashier! Sweet Marlboro man, be true.
So thrive my soul--
A thousand times good night!
A thousand times the worse, to want thy light.
'Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone:
And yet no further than an addict's brand;
Who lets it stray but little from his hand,
I would you were my brand.
Sweet, so would I:
Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.
Good night, good night! Parting is such a drag,
That I shall say good night till morrow's fag.
Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy pack!
Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to hack!
When I die
Let me come back as an ostrich
A yoked-up sac of ignorant hate
with knives for a mouth
A spiteful pool noodle
with a meaty fist for a brain
A downy rage-ball with two emotions:
The thing god made right after PCP
And right before whatever he hoped would eat ostriches
Make me that
Or a manatee
A muffler fucker fondles tunnels
Tucking his luck and hoping to buck
A muffler fucker ducks and shuffles
stuffing muck and sucking trucks
A muffler fucker always hustles
Full of pluck he runs amok
A muffler fucker's member suffers
Scuffed junk from rough trunks
Guy From Boston Sitting on a Toilet
I ate a lotta
Now my ass is
It Could Always Be Worse
A zombie with class
Moans without any sass
As he munches and crunches and lunches on ass
A mummy with grace
Doesn't dare to efface
When his wrap becomes trapped and unravels his face
A vampire, though vain
Doesn't think it a pain
When a blood dribbled flood falls and makes a big stain
All three agree it could always be worse
Being alive, now that's the real curse.
I AM TRAIN
TRAIN GO ZOOM
TRAIN DO JOB
TRAIN GET STUCK
SAY TRAIN SUCK
TRAIN GET MAD
TRAIN LIKE MOVE
TRAIN LIKE FILL
MOST OF ALL
TRAIN LIKE KILL
Fall in love with me
It'll be cool
We'll both be like, 'dang, this is super dope!'
We'll laugh when we hear the train go bing-bong
Because of that inside joke we'll have
Man, that joke is hilarious
Fall in love with me
We can do love stuff
The stuff we hate to see when we’re not in love
But mostly we’ll just wait to say that MTA joke
Seriously that shit is so funny
My stegosaurus followed me to school today
He makes an awful racket when he wants to play
His tail impaled our teacher but it's all okay
Because of mental trauma now we all get A's
The good times were good
the bad times were bad
And though now’s the time where you may feel quite mad
The time that we’ve spent
Those times we were brave
Are surely worth more than the time we’d have saved
It’s time now to go
The time’s now for change
Of course it’ll feel rather awkward and strange
But time doesn't stop
A clock ticks anew
I promise, my friends, I will make time for you
One Eye Open
Now I lay me down to sleep
To count some mother fucking sheep
If I should die before I wake
Then god just made a huge mistake
I'll kick the gates of heaven down
And scream, 'alright you fucking clowns!'
I'll interrupt a holy mass
And put my boot up Peter's ass
I'll choke an angel with their harp
And find a cloud that's good and sharp
The Trinity will sputter spit
A Father, Son, and Holy Shit
And through the chaos I'll descend
Amongst the living once again
My warning echoed through the fog,
'When I come back there'd best be dogs.'
Be the martyr
Twist the knife a little harder
Take the high road
It's less traveled
Watch my patience come unraveled
I won't rue
My being choosy
Next time you can pick the movie
You suck, my friend, and I do too
We suck at many things we do
Sometimes I suck and know I should
Sometimes I suck when I am good
Sometimes I suck and spread the shame
Sometimes I suck and I'm to blame
Sometimes I suck because I blow
Sometimes I suck and never know
Sometimes I suck and can't say why
I always suck when I don't try
You always suck when you don't try
We always suck when we don't try
You gotta bomb and suck and blow
And give your dumb shit time to grow
and when that shit is good as fuck
Guess what? Sometimes you still will suck!
So henceforth when I suck I'll say,
'I suck right now and that's okay.'
The Ballad of Pretty Boy John
Was a Wild West thug
Had a heart made of coal
And a beautiful mug
He stole heads of cattle
And relished a fight
He held up a bank
And his ass was real tight
The no good
The History of My Beard
At first it grew in patchy splotches
Random bits of fabric swatches
Creeping out in mismatched notches
Textured rough like unkempt crotches
And that's where we're at as of today.
Why don't feet look more like hands then?
How come monkeys don't make air conditioners then?
Why is gazpacho cold then?
Why is dipping dots never the ice cream of the present then?
This Is The Title Of The Poem
This is the start
Where the topic imparts
And you learn of the rhyme scheme
This is the art
Where the words become smart
And with puns we make fun through
This is the part
Where the poem has heart
And you feel a reward for
This is the dart
Where I make you say ‘fart’
And you realize the poet’s
If The Guy Who Named The Walkie-Talkie Was King
Sneezy Wheezy - Influenza
Fixey Witch - Doctor
Billy Bard - William Shakespeare
Cheeky Speaky - Gossip
Slappy Grabbies - Hands
Moldy Oldie - History
Pantie Shanty - Closet
Drench Trench - Bathtub
The Delicate Art Of Bathroom Selfies
Suck it in and puff your chest!
Change the angle
Change the light!
Change the filter
BLACK AND WHITE
Make your body look complex!
Put your ego to the test!
Take the photo
Take a look!
DELETE THEM ALL
THIS WAS STUPID
WHY DID I EVEN TRY
LOOK LIKE A FREAKING BAG OF MILK
Superman is big and strong
He stands for good and rights the wrong
He's brave and kind and selfless too
But Superman is not like you
You are stronger I recall
You are not a man at all
Thought For Food
I gobble praise and admiration
Feast on words of affirmation
Feed me views
Share my news
My sustenance is validation
munching, noshing, watch me swallow
comments, likes, subscribes and follows
Pay your dues
My belly’s full, but I feel hollow
Knot For Me
I'm stuck, I suck
I'm out of luck
I'm trapped right in the middle
I stink, I think
Just like a sphinx
Without a damn good riddle
I blow, I'm slow
I cannot grow
But also cannot shrink
My glass is brass
And tastes like ass
But thirsty, I can't drink
But through the good
and twixt the neutral I still sigh:
'Although I cannot win
I'll never wear a tie.'
Green Eggs and Ham: 2017
(Or: Why I Quit Serving)
I will not eat the eggs and ham
I'm vegan locavore I am!
I will not eat a pig or cow,
I will not eat a fish or fowl,
I will not eat a milk or cheese,
Sometimes I will not even breathe.
I also can not eat this bread,
I'm gluten free inside my head.
Not celiac, just gluten free,
I have a real fake allergy!
No there's nothing to back it up,
and that's what make's it very tough -
could you get me a cleaner cup?
This one is clean but not enough.
The soup is cold the salad's hot,
my chair and table creak a lot
they creak a lot my salad's hot
the soup is cold, that man is old.
I can't sit next to older folk,
their wrinkles make me fucking choke.
My daughter ate her cup and plate,
she needs some crayons, she creates!
I'd like to split the bill as well,
I am alone but what the hell?
I'd like to split it 40 ways,
Yes 40 ways is how me pays.
Here's a Discover, and some cash,
a check, and season 4 of M*A*S*H,
an amulet that's very cursed,
oh look a tourist, they're the worst!
I'm used as bait and stomped by boots
I'm squished and squashed on sidewalk routes
They see me squirm and judge my core
I'm half a nuisance, half ignored
I'm not a worm, I'm only poor.
I practice to improve
And soon (with any luck)
I'll know enough to know for sure
How much I fucking suck
The feet are jealous of the hands
For pointing where to go
The hands are jealous of the feet
For running the whole show
The eyes are jealous of the ears
For ears don't have to see
The ears are jealous of the eyes
For eyes can't hear their plea
The mouth is jealous of the ass
For keeping such tight lips
The ass is jealous of the mouth
For talking so much shit
Next time you're jealous of someone
For being them, not you
Remember someone somewhere's surely
Jealous of you too
The curtain falls
The roses fly
The actors bow
The critics sigh
The people leave
They go to bed
The ideas sit
inside their head
They go to work
And they don’t know
That they’re been changed
That they have grown
They’ll use their hearts
And that’s the power
Of the arts
What's in a Name
Kids should get to pick their own names
Then we'd have way less Fionas
And way more Batmans
And Dump Trucks
Say It Don’t Spray It
There was a man lacking precision and grace,
Who’s discharge would travel all over the place.
His penis would bark,
The seamen would arc,
You might say that he could not keep a straight face.
The Island of Half-Finished Thought
I come from an island of half-finished thought
Where homes stand half built using iron half wrought
Where men-folk make love with a half-erect dick
And women fake orgasms one half as quick
I live on an island of half-baked ideas
Where a stray anxious thought breeds a twice half-baked fear
Where half of what's yours equals half of what's mine
And half a Chris Pratt equals two half Chris Pines
You aren't from my world but you'll soon understand
That you aren't quite a stranger to this foreign land
Where the tower of Pisa is only half-leaning
And phrases like half-assed gain wholly new meaning
The island’s my brain and it’s never complete
filled with thoughts (like ‘socks are to-go bags for your feet!’)
But it's nice to remind us that if we're all honest
We're all full half-finished thoughts that entwine us
And all of the thoughts that are inside your head
Are important so cherish them while you're not dead
Cuz you're more than your body and more than your fates
And you're more than the drama your island creates
As we're all just half-finished thoughts standing in queue
And the others in line are all half-finished too
I come from an island of half-finished thought
And I'm made up of pinches of knowledge half taught
And sometimes I'm blind and sometimes I see
And sometimes I'm trapped and sometimes I'm free
This island’s half-finished, but always provides
it’s complete when you start letting others inside
Can I Help You?
Ring the bell for service
Really go to town on that thing
Tickle that metal nipple till it screams
Slap the shit out of that naughty bell
Don't stop till I tell you
Take your gloves off and raw dog it
Grip it and rip it
I want the other stores to hear
Finger blast that fucking bell
Earn your service
The safe word is 'refund'
Make me say it
Spank that dirty hunk of metal like you mean it
If you fuck up
Take a deep breath
And play it real cool
I'd like to think
That's what happened
To whoever invented toast
The Raver by Edgar Allen Bro Pt. 1
Once upon a midnight bender, I was fucked up I remember,
Over many a cheap and potent vodka red bulls that were poured.
I retired to the shitter, for a puff off my one-hitter,
Suddenly there came a pitter-patter at my restroom door.
’Tis some diesel bro,’ I muttered, ‘tapping at my restroom door -
Just some douche and nothing more.’
I was in between semesters, seeking but a brief sequester,
And each separate empty mixer gave me courage on the floor.
Drunkenly I wished for closure; - vainly I had sought composure
From these drugs surcease of woes pure - heartache for my failing scores -
Marks which me left no choice but to withdraw, sans degree and poor-
Dropping out for evermore.
And the clumsy sharpies drawing cocks upon the dirty walling
Thrilled me - filled me with weed induced visions never felt before;
So that now, to stop the geeking of my brain, I started speaking
'Tis someone who smelled the reeking ganja through my restroom door -
Just calm down and stop from freaking out inside this restroom door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'
Presently my buzz grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Bitch' said I, `or bitches, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was toking, and get paranoid when smoking,
And so faintly you came poking, poking at my restroom door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Sinks and mirrors, nothing more.
Deep into the mirrors peering, watching my reflection sneering,
Waking shattered dreams all twenty-somethings fear down to their core;
Silence grew there, like a cancer, and the darkness gave no answer,
And my plans to be a dancer vanished with the words, `My scores!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back 'your failing scores!'
Merely this and nothing more.
One cup of coffee awakens the mind.
Bittersweet sips make the morning feel fine
Two cups of coffee awakens the soul.
Warmth spreading inwards to make you feel whole
Three cups of coffee awakens the body.
F0UR CUP5 0F C0FF33 AWAK3N5 TH3 MATR1X
WATCH A5 1 C0NQU3R
L1F3 15 1N 5TA515
1 AM G0D FAC3L355
One Small Step
If the moon can have a dark side
And nobody gives a fuck
I can stay in bed all day
And order delivery
And maybe be too sad to even eat it
And you're just gonna have to be okay with that
If the moon can affect the ocean's tides
Just by existing
And everyone is like, 'good job moon!'
I can pay the interest on my student loans
With my credit card
And expect a little validation
If the moon can eclipse the sun
And get its picture taken
And it doesn't even have water
I can get drunk too much
And look at photos of myself in high school
Because I'm full of water
Crayola Colors: Rejected (Accepted)
Placenta Magenta (Razzmatazz)
Inner Darkness (Outer Space)
Sequined Foreskin (Metallic Gold)
Buscemi’s Eye Bags (Chestnut)
Indigo Girls (Mango Tango)
Hot Breath (Manatee)
'The thing to remember,' the dying man croaked,
'Are the three strongest weapons you have when provoked.'
'Compassion is first, and when used like a sword,
'Will slice through all hate like an axe through a board.'
'The second,' he whispered, his light fading fast,
'Is knowledge, with which moral judgement is passed.'
And with his last breath, the third weapon dispensed,
'... The 2000 Baltimore Ravens defense.'
Get a Real Job
The venders jam-packed every part of town square
Each competing for focus and hawking their ware
In the center, a man of a strange disposition
Began his illusionist street exhibition
He magic'd a top hat and magic'd a cape
He magic'd a dove, turned it into a snake
He magic'd a bouquet of roses (long stem)
And all the while bellowed, 'come see, Bethlehem!'
He handled the crowds like an old puppeteer
And (with slight-of hand) produced coinage from ears
But before his last trick a man ran by and said
'Everybody come quick, some dude just raised the dead!'
He watched as his dwindling crowd disappeared
Entranced by 'real magic', the street artist feared
He took his last bow with an audible sigh
He couldn't compete, fuck that new Jesus guy
Red means stop
Green means go
Yellow means be careful
Blue means sky
Green means grass
Black means you probably didn't listen to the first part
'I quit!' she exclaimed with a stamp of her foot
disturbing a pile of unsettled soot
She raised her umbrella and rose a few inches
And turning, face burning, said 'listen up bitches,
'I sang and I danced till I calloused my feet,
I spoon-fed you sugar to get you to eat,
I showed you a world that should awe and astound,
We rode a demented-ass merry-go-round!'
'But it wasn't enough, still your air is atrocious,
Your super callus fragile Ids are extra damn precocious!'
I planted a rant
I watered a woe
I preened and I screamed and I watched contempt grow
I weeded out logic
I fertilized gumption
I made a nice scarecrow just out of assumption
I harvested hate
I jarred it in glass
And that's how I opened a can of whoop-ass