Month: March 2014

4 Out Of 5 Ain’t Bad

Thursday night’s my Friday, now
(At least for this week, anyhow).
If you seek productivity
Tomorrow, best not look to me.
I tried this week, I really did,
But I’m just like a little kid
In swimming class at summer camp:
It’s cold, I’m bored…I’ve got a cramp!
I’m calling it: My week is done.
Don’t worry, there’s another one
Around that bend just up ahead.
‘Til then, I’ll be asleep in bed.

Stay Of Elocution

I’d planned to pen another rant
On leprechauns; alas, I can’t.
It pains me, but I won’t resort
To plagiarism: “brutish,” “short”
And “nasty” all describe those slobs
To tiny t’s, but Thomas Hobbes
Co-opted all those labels when
He used them on the lives of men
In Nature’s state of constant “Warre.”
It sucks, but Hobbes was here before
Me by about three centuries.
Could he have left me “nasty,” please?
Or “brutish”? “Short’s” too on-the-nose,
And likely not P.C., but those
Two other words are just the thing…
Oh, well. I’ll try again next spring.

My Grandfather’s Joke

My grandfather’s clock was too big for the shelf
So he sold it and bought a big shelf.
He’s never on time for appointments. You wait
Or give up and go fetch him yourself.

If I drew you a graph
Of the things that make him laugh
There’d be one big, mysterious dot.
Is it farts?
Race?
Something that’s on my face?
“No,” he’ll say,
     It’s
          Snot.”

Is it a bit of cheese?
“It’s not. It’s snot.”
Grandpa, please tell me. Please?
“It’s snot. It’s snot!”

He’ll stop,
Blink,
And say, “No matter what you think,
“Read my lips:
     It’s
          Snot!”

Tiddles’ Vittles

My friend, who is the internet,
Said not to feed the cat just yet:
It seems there’s stuff in cyberspace
With which to fill her feline face
That’s pennies less per serving than
The Sam-In® in her standard can!
Can this be true? He says it is,
And no one knows the cat food biz
Like he does. He’s the internet!
There’s nothing he can’t not forget
About what cats and kits should eat,
So I’ll just– crap. I hit delete.

Enough About You…

No one likes a Whiny Will.
There’s likely no such thing, but still,
You get the gist: Complain and moan
At will (ha!), ’cause you’ll be alone.
The litany of things that suck
About your life tonight? Good luck
Reciting that to anyone
Who doesn’t owe you money, son.
Your troubles just aren’t that compelling;
No one’s buying what you’re selling
More than once, so timing counts:
Dispense your pain in small amounts.
And offer friends a chance to vent
As well: Ask them how their day went–
And listen to the answer, too–
Before you bore with your boo-hoo.
Such interest is appreciated
And may be reciprocated.
Anyway, enough from me.
How’s your tree pollen allergy?