Sleep!

Sleep is not a luxury.
Well, not today.
Well, not for me.
Invention’s mamma had it right:
“Necessity” describes tonight.
Accordingly, I’ll be bemused
If morning finds my eyelids used
For aught but frames of bloodshot red.
Too bad I can’t sublet the bed.

Neat Feet

I drink my whiskey from a shoe
Or, if I drank, that’s what I’d do.
I mean, I drink, but beer and wine
Both pour at speeds much nearer mine
Than spirits once or twice distilled.
And yet, had I my footpads filled
With fluids I’m obliged to quaff,
The higher proofs might frighten off
The worst that’s lurking in my sole.
Feet, neat. Repeat. That’s how I’d roll.

Short Weeks Are Always The Longest

One more freaking day
Till it’s Saturday at last.
T.G.I.F.F.

It’s Not About The Monkey

The monkey in the overcoat
That looks like what Columbo wore
Except it’s buttoned to the throat
Won’t show me magic anymore
Unless I promise not to cry
When things I don’t expect occur
But I will not comply ’cause why
Should I suppress my tears for her?

About Those Bears…

A bumblebee
Flew in my mouth
I swallowed it
It traveled south
Right past my tummy
Through my gut
Around and down
And out my butt
And ever since–
This may sound funny–
When I fart
It smells like honey

The Inconstant Gardener

He hasn’t mown the grass as yet. He
Started to, but his machete
Dulled, and then a hive of bees
Woke up inside the mower. Please
Excuse this slight delay. The grass,
Like these allergic hives, will pass.

Pragmatagical

Magical animals, fabulous plants,
Untreated water and unpleated pants…
Fantasy worlds, as far as they go,
Are delightful, but do they have mac & cheese?
No.

Glibidinous

Learning stuff gets kind of old.
Remembering the things you’re told
And putting them to use? For what?
The funnest “facts” come from your butt!
For instance: Olives froze in ice
That’s made with vodka get you nice
And plastered–truly roaring drunk–
Like, three times faster. Who’d a thunk?
Well, no one, ’cause it isn’t true.
I’m pullin’ wool all over you!
My point is, if I stick to stuff
I’ve really learned, it’s not enough
To make me interesting on cue,
And all I want to know is you.

Quelle Fromage

I don’t believe in second chances,
Doris Day, parquet or France. Is
Anything I haven’t tasted
Really real? Or is it wasted
Neurons in my lobes frontaux?
Don’t answer: I don’t want to know.

Duck In A Bucket

Duck in a bucket:
It’s better than chicken!
You don’t have to eat it,
Just slip a big stick in
And knock it about
And the echoey quacking
Will drown out the laughter
Your empty life’s lacking.