The Favor that I Save for Later

I am a muffin with no coffee.
I am a baby made of broken dreams.
I’m a haircut with no scissors.
I am a donut with poisoned cream.

I am the news man Andy Rooney.
People only wonder if I’m Mickey’s Dad.
I am Tom Hank’s biggest black fan.
This just means I don’t really exist.

I am a creepy looking clown doll.
You wanna play with your transformers instead.
I am Kavinsky with no Nightcall.
I am a beetle without a head.

I am a seagull who ate an old diaper
And Imma puking on your car windshield.
I am like the show The Chicago Code.
I try too hard to be like The Shield.

I am a can of Mr. Pibb.
I am the lion in the well.
I am the finger in the jam jar.
I am the bathroom at Taco Bell.

An 18th Century Encounter with Wombats and Wolves

WHACK! I batted a wombat off of me.
BANG! I shot a musket at that taut rat.
WANG! I heard a shot turd shoot past my knee.
WAYNE! I called for “Wayne, where was you at!?”

FRICK! I swatted and swore. I swayed so sweet.
SNAP! I snapped in half a wombat’s bad back.
HA! These horrid hairballs haven’t the heat!
FOO! The fight is finished, for I fought flacks!

WHA!? Where did these wolves walk in from in waves?
OW! Bastard bit me bum, badly I bleed.
NO! Stay away! Help! I need to be saved!
ACK! Tell my caring Kathy I craved mead.

WOOF! Imma wolf eating this boy’s guts.
YUM! Next take Alex, who likes to say “Sluts”

Dan by the Foot (Or, Skittle-Tape)

Ambitions of being a nutritious snack

But all my flavors are artificial

Filled with sugar, I will rot your system

But maybe you’ll chuckle while you’ve got me.

After I’m gone, you forget me after ten minutes.

I am fruit-by-the-foot.                           

I am delicious.

Favorite Poem Friday

A Good Boy by Robert Louis Stevenson

I woke before the morning, I was happy all the day,
I never said an ugly word, but smiled and stuck to play.

And now at last the sun is going down behind the wood,
And I am very happy, for I know that I've been good.

My bed is waiting cool and fresh, with linen smooth and fair,
And I must be off to sleepsin-by, and not forget my prayer.

I know that, till to-morrow I shall see the sun arise,
No ugly dream shall fright my mind, no ugly sight my eyes.

But slumber hold me tightly till I waken in the dawn,
And hear the thrushes singing in the lilacs round the lawn

I really like this poem because nobody in it is a dirtbag. This is about a kid who just wakes up one morning, happy as can be, and says to himself "You know what, today, I'm just gonna be the best kid alive." Everyone is always asking "Ehhhh, why should I be nice to anyone? Nobody ever spares any mush for meeeeee..." If everyone was like this kid, the world would be amazing.

Don't Feel Things, Guy!

First poem. I think its a real keeper.

Goth poetry and sketches of gushing blood
They don't make me feel sorry for you
Because you're not that deep
Stop scribbling in that Bauhaus trapper keeper
And just buy some sweet new sneakers instead

Be more shallow
Be more happy
Don't tell me your problems
Or how your Dad has no arms
Be less of a bummer
Be less open and keep emotions inside!

When you tell me you wish you were dead
Because your baby was born with no head
I may pretend that I care, but I'm not really there
I'm thinking 'bout fruit punch instead