It wasn’t me

When a drummer meets a drummer
Which one is the bummer?
When a ranger meets a ranger
Which one is in danger?
When a poet meets a poet
Which one doesn’t know it?
When a martyr meets a martyr
Which one is the farter?


Ate legs good – eight legs bad

Creepy crawly – big and hairy
Eight legs skitter – really scary
Thought it might attack my kitty
Or cause havoc in the city
Then it bolted into laundry
Which causes this queasy quandary
Should the pile go in the drier
Or just set the house on fire?


What a shit stain

Jizztrumpet is so insane
His sick and demented brain
Thinks that a bomb from a plane
Could destroy a hurricane


Ten steps back

I need to finish soon
I’ve had this job since June
Just one more week to go
Until I get that dough
The fat lady could sing
Except for one small thing
I need to start anew
And that is why I’m blue


Go blow your trumpet

Hey imbecile – now here’s the thing
You’re Putin’s pawn – you’re not a king
With Israel you failed the quiz
You can’t be more than king of jizz


Seeing red

Hurling is rough
Gotta be tough
Smacked in the nose
That’s how it goes
Play really hard
Get a red card
Icing his bruise
Watch his team lose
Back in the town
Everyone’s down
But no one sneers
He still gets cheers


Not the hypothalamus

There was a lonely man
Who had a needy gland
The throbbing in his hand
Pulsed like a reggae band
He did the deed as planned
The climax felt so grand


Different seasons

August has AU
Autumn has AU also
August is autumn


Ode to a glove

In my old coat I find a glove
A gift from Jean given with love
It warms my hand, it warms my heart
I think about our time apart
With this snug glove I walk alone
Though it’s been tough, I know I’ve grown
This glove is like a lucky charm
When tightly worn, it wards off harm
I think about the times we spent
My glove on hers and what that meant
The feels I get wearing this glove
From Sweetie Pea with so much love


Excremential crisis

In just one month I’m 52
I have ennui and deja vu
I do not know what I should do
I could wear black or powder blue
I could eat steak or Irish stew
I could watch Jaws or something new
I could just pee or full on poo
Lord give a sign here in the loo!


Self employed blues

I work from home in my underpants
With Brownie and Linc, I sometimes dance
And once in a while, I’ll do some work
Pay’s ok, but the boss is a jerk


Racist cops

If you’re black – cops attack
If you’re brown – cops beat down
If you’re white – cops polite


Supplied with air

I’m all of out rhymes, I can’t make a haiku
I thought I could write my Brownie a theme song
I’m all of out rhymes, I can’t make a haiku
It’s no doubt too late to say that my art’s so wrong

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