Don’t give her Play Doh

There once was a woman from Orcutt
She was crazy, a bit of a nut
She found a huge box
Full of Lego blocks
Which she built in the shape of a butt


And not just $2

I want to win at Powerball
I really want to win it all
I want to get a big fat check
‘Cause work is a pain in the neck


Kill Linc machine

Linc is doing what he loves
What he loves is killing doves
Sparrows, blue jays, and black birds
Leaving just feathers and turds


Stay golden pony boy

Nothing Gold Can Stay
By Robert Frost

Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf,
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day
Nothing gold can stay.


A quick one to keep the streak

It’s getting late
To avoid fate
I’ll make a rhyme
And post in time


Is that an oil derrick…

There once was a man from Bakersfield
Who had a secret that he concealed
Within his tight pants
That ripped when he danced
And all were shocked by what was revealed


California summers

Fog in the morning
Sizzling in the afternoon
Fog in the evening


Makes me want to gorge

Willie and Kate chose a name
Regal and worthy of fame
The name agrees with most folk
It’s not the butt of a joke
Oh the paths this king will forge!
‘Cause nothing bad rhymes with George
But that’s not true for Georgie
They forgot about orgy!


His career is in danger

I like to show my junk to a stranger
You can DM me @Carlos Danger
I’m totally obsessed with my weiner
Vote for me, and ignore my demeanor


Didn’t we fight a war to not care?

So, Kate and Willie popped out a boy
Women around the world jump for joy
From Buckingham Palace to Beijing
Such excitement for this future king
But for the moment, he’s just a prince
And all this chatter makes most men wince


One small stamp

Whitey on the Moon
By Gil Scott-Heron

A rat done bit my sister Nell.
(with Whitey on the moon)
Her face and arms began to swell.
(and Whitey’s on the moon)
I can’t pay no doctor bill.
(but Whitey’s on the moon)
Ten years from now I’ll be payin’ still.
(while Whitey’s on the moon)
The man jus’ upped my rent las’ night.
(’cause Whitey’s on the moon)
No hot water, no toilets, no lights.
(but Whitey’s on the moon)
I wonder why he’s uppi’ me?
(’cause Whitey’s on the moon?)
I wuz already payin’ ‘im fifty a week.
(with Whitey on the moon)
Taxes takin’ my whole damn check,
Junkies makin’ me a nervous wreck,
The price of food is goin’ up,
An’ as if all that shit wuzn’t enough:
A rat done bit my sister Nell.
(with Whitey on the moon)
Her face an’ arm began to swell.
(but Whitey’s on the moon)
Was all that money I made las’ year
(for Whitey on the moon?)
How come there ain’t no money here?
(Hmm! Whitey’s on the moon)
Y’know I jus’ ’bout had my fill
(of Whitey on the moon)
I think I’ll sen’ these doctor bills,
Airmail special
(to Whitey on the moon)


Danish Doxy

There once was a woman from Solvang
Who was looking for a guy to bang
She found some nice dudes
Without attitudes
But she’d still rather have a big wang


Horror flick haiku

The theatre is full
Fingers clench; knuckles whiten
somewhere a girl screams


Who is your one?

One person can be your crutch
One person has the right touch
One person can be so clutch
One person can mean that much


That stinks

When a jackass explodes a bomb because of scripture
That is something I cannot condone
How in the hell can you put that Terrorist’s picture
On the cover of the Rolling Stone?


Yes pain no gain

What is going on with my back?
Did somebody give it a whack?
I can’t even fart without pain
If this keeps up, I’ll go insane


It burns! It burns!

It’s not even one
I got too much sun
Will I ever learn?
Here comes the sunburn


No skittles no justice

By Langston Hughes

That Justice is a blind goddess
Is a thing to which we black are wise:
Her bandage hides two festering sores
That once perhaps were eyes.


Florida you’re dead to me

Trayvon is dead, and Zimmerman is free
Florida should drop off into the sea
If you see a young dude walking through town
The worst thing to do is to shoot him down
Let the cops do their job, and leave him be
Instead the kid is dead, and you are free


Unthinking head

How do you say, “Captain Sum Ting Wong”
And not know that it is clearly wrong?
Is “Ho Lee Fuk” real? Probably no
Where do you go after “Yu Tu Lo”?
Could “Bang Ding Ow”, be somebody’s name?
Did the station screw up? Who’s to blame?


She loved the slurpees

There was a woman who drank slurpees
She worked it off by doing burpees
For more exercise
She did tons of guys
So she caught a case of the herpes


Paging Mr. Sandman

Jean and Sean
Were up till dawn
Because they couldn’t sleep well
Jean felt dead
With Pounding head
And Sean was in his own hell


Don’t blink around Linc

Birdie birdie in the sky
Why’d you have to go and die?
Taunting Linc was not too keen
‘Cause he is a death machine


Sehr gut sauerbraten

Jean cooked us up some German food
Sauerbraten was really good
Potato Dumplings and some veg
Her recipes are cutting edge


You otter know

The Otter
By Seamus Heaney

When you plunged
The light of Tuscany wavered
And swung through the pool
From top to bottom.

I loved your wet head and smashing crawl,
Your fine swimmer’s back and shoulders
Surfacing and surfacing again
This year and every year since.

I sat dry-throated on the warm stones.
You were beyond me.
The mellowed clarities, the grape-deep air
Thinned and disappointed.

Thank God for the slow loadening,
When I hold you now
We are close and deep
As the atmosphere on water.

My two hands are plumbed water.
You are my palpable, lithe
Otter of memory
In the pool of the moment,

Turning to swim on your back,
Each silent, thigh-shaking kick
Re-tilting the light,
Heaving the cool at your neck.

And suddenly you’re out,
Back again, intent as ever,
Heavy and frisky in your freshened pelt,
Printing the stones.


Big isn’t always better

There once was a man from Germany
Who had a dick that hung to his knee
In lederhosen
The tip got frozen
And flew off when he tried to go pee


You otter laugh

On Jean’s hand is a sea otter
It can’t speak when Jean drinks water
She’s not in it for the money
She just thought it would be funny


Incredibly loud and extremely close

It sounds like a war zone outside
In the house Raven tries to hide
Instead of enjoying the show
We only get to see the glow
I used to like this holiday
Now I want it to go away


Unsafe and insane

Happy 4th of July eve
Here’s something you won’t believe
Uncle Sam will fly his sleigh
Through the night and all the day
To bring good girls and good boys
Pyromaniacal toys
He spreads them all over town
To burn your house to the ground


So far so…

182 poems put to bed
182 poems left unsaid
Now here is poem 183
It’s not about Sea Monkeys or Sweetie Pea
It’s not very funny; not much to see here
I’m simply saying, we’re halfway through the year


I need SPF googol

First day of July
Sun up in the sky
Making my skin fry
Think I’m gonna cry

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