Football season! Hallelujah!
Fans exclaiming Bam! and Boo-yah!
Student jocks who play for free
Enrich their university,
And even if I couldn’t care
Much less who wins or who’s from where,
Each Saturday I find a flannel
Blanket, flip the TV channel
To some random game, lie back
And let my thought train jump its track.
Each tight end on a crossing route
Is squeezing stressors farther out
And every wide receiver deep,
Good hands or not, puts me to sleep.
I’m not concerned with ranking crap:
The BCS, for me, spells “nap.”
Team A’s today’s Team B’s best test?
That’s great! I really need the rest.
Month: August 2013
It Ain’t Me, Babe
The turtle on the telephone
Keeps calling. Won’t leave me alone.
He doesn’t speak–I think it’s he;
The voice I don’t hear’s deep for she—
But when I scream, “Who is this? WHO?!?”
He does that thing that turtles do
When they’re embarrassed or caught out:
Retract their heads. That’s when I shout,
“Oy! Turtle! Look, I know your game,
You coward! If you have a name,
You’d better spill it pronto, Jack,
Or else I’ll flip you on your back!”
It’s always then the line goes dead.
The after-image in my head
Is of a turtle, feetside-high:
A welling tear obscures his eye
Then spills. It streaks his leathered neck
And splashes on the refund check
He’s written for the 45
Of It Ain’t Me, Babe (’65,
On White Whale Records), never sent.
Worst buck-ten I ever spent.
That’s What Friends Are For
I’m not perfect. This I know,
And friends are quick to tell me so.
Lamenting imperfection’s cost
However, shows that all’s not lost.
The day I answer every quiz
With, “As I sayeth, so it is,”
Will also be the day that ends
My tenure as A Man With Friends.
Oneirocriticism
For 50 years the words I have a dream
Have echoed in the voice of Dr. King,
And looking at the White House it would seem
That dream came true; I fear, though, no such thing.
When FUD–that’s Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt–
Takes root, Monsanto’s godlike engineers
Could not a crop less likely to die out
Design, than one that’s sown of human fears.
The Great Society of LBJ
Seems evermore consigned to history
When Stand Your Ground outlasts the V.R.A.;
Was that in Martin’s dream? And as for me,
I’m quick to judge the character within
By how a person judges others’ skin.
Eyes On The Ball
Boy, you throw things well!
In that contest, you would win!
…but we’re arguing.
Honest Abe Owes Me Money
Abraham Lincoln appeared in a dream;
If the dream had been mine I might know what he meant
When he sang that my manparts were sweet as ice cream,
But the dream was my landlord’s. He doubled my rent.
Flu’d Poisoning
Flu-related fun’s restricted
When your symptom’s self-inflicted
Banish body aches and pains
With medication, what remains
Is certain knowledge your condition’s
All your fault, and each emission’s
Like a note from your intestine:
Next time, wash what you’re ingestin’!
A Zoo Story
I’ve been to the zoo!
I don’t want to brag,
But I’ve been to the zoo
And it wasn’t a drag.
The zoo was around me
And under my feet
And at times overhead
And I thought it was neat.
I’ve been to the zoo
And I think I can say
That…I mean…well, the zoo….
Nope. It just went away.
Tomato/Tornado
Psychic, telepathic cat:
Predicts–and likes–a quiet chat.
Psychopathic helicat:
Don’t go out without a hat.
In The Pink
Pink sky at morning–
Missed it (still snorning).
Pink sky at lunch–
I liked that a bunch.
Pink sky at tea-time–
That’s not a treat I’m
Accustomed to seeing.
And now the sun’s fleeing
The sky altogether!
What’s up with the weather?
Pink sky at night–
Something’s not right.
Everything’s pinkish!
I’m getting all blinkish
And thinking my vision
Is lacking precision
Chromatically speaking
So anyone seeking
Prognostification
Through interpretation
Of skies pink and starry…
Can’t help you. I’m sorry.
TrollPants 2.0 