The
Happy Poem.
When I have classes like
women's studies, They make me write dumb stuff.
So I humour the teacher,
who, by the way,
Has the IQ of marshmallow
fluff.
But sometimes he makes
us watch internet porn
(Which is bookmarked
on his personal page)
He showed us this
crap at 8:00 AM
I'd like to lock him
in a cage.
When I go to this
stupid class
I start to fret and
fret.
It makes me quite
upset.
You bet.
I gnash my teeth and
pull out my hairs.
Then I scream at the
wall and
Then the police put
out flares.
The End.
Jesus
in a Towtruck
by Jason Renn
sunlight glancing through
dusty glass,
the harsh glare making
me wince.
slow realization...seeping
in by osmosis.
that my modern convenience,
horseless contrivance,
is dead.
trudging through the
tall grass,
dead of night, dew
seeping in,
through the suede
of my shoes.
Where is the light
at the end of my tunnel?
slowly growing, barely
showing,
beckoning with some
rosy glow.
tap seven digits,
drop two coins.
await my savior with
his hydraulic
salvation.
take me home and make
me whole.
Family
By Sean McBride
Hey, let's have sex.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Let's forget all our
pills
And our condoms.
I'll give you all
my diseases
And you give me yours
And we'll be a happy
family.
Of three, that is.
Let's get you pregnant.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Let's get drunk and
high,
Hey, hey, hey.
Fetal alcohol syndrome
And babies with no
brains
Sounds like a good
idea to me.
I'm kidding, by the
way.
The
Adverb Poem
By Alice Teeple
 Cookies
are a treat
When eaten really quickly.
But please don't eat too many
Or they will make you sickly.
When I drink coffee,
It makes me very jittery.
But if I do not add extra sugar,
The coffee will taste bitterly.
I picked you this dandelion
Because I love you madly.
But it is not my fault that it is
covered in bugs,
So do not feel too badly.
Love
By Sean McBride
Love?
I was in love once.
I had a puppy and it was cute and
cuddly
And it would fetch sticks
And play ball and lick my face
And chew my shoes.
Then I ate him.
Now I feel full.
Full of love, that is.
I wonder where my shoes are.
Ode
to Mata Hari
by Bernard Kelly and Alice Teeple
I do not love thee, Mata Hari.
With your purple sequinned sari.
Wallowing in calamari.
When I see thee, I run far-y.
I do not love thee, Mata Hari. |
Ode
to an
Ode
to Mata Hari
by Robert E. Yuncken
I love thee neither, Mata Hari,
unless you're on a surfin'-safari:
...Surfin' the beaches of the
Kalahari,
Cruisin' the streets
in your crimson Ferrari,
Then at night,
gettin' stoned and guitar-ry
under the sky
so wide and starry
Ah, then I'd love
thee, Mata Hari... |
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