Thursday, September 2, 2010
Some dude has high hostility,
Dementia or senility,
Perhaps a disability,
Or else he’s in a rush.
It could be insobriety,
A lack of all propriety,
But though I wish he’d try it, he
Can never seem to flush!
I don’t need any gift cards
Or a chance to win a prize.
I don’t need brownies, batteries
Or other impulse buys.
This isn’t where I donate
To the Mayor’s Midnight Hoops,
The Restless Leg Society
Or Teacups for the Troops.
But I can suggest a service
That would give me satisfaction.
I give you bucks; you give me goods.
A simple cash transaction!
I recall a time when flying
wasn’t such a huge ordeal.
It was organized and civilized,
I’d even say genteel.
But now security alone
has rendered me a wreck.
I’ve got half a foot of butt room
and I’m sitting next to Shrek!
They’ve just run out of snacks,
and it’s a seven-hour flight.
I’d like to travel back in time
and kill the brothers Wright!
Press One for billing inquiries.
For new accounts, press Eighty.
To hear this list en español,
Please presiona siete.
To hear Vivaldi once again,
Press any key, then star.
To spend more time in menu hell,
Press F-U-B-A-R!
My fellow moviegoer,
You can shake your popcorn bag,
You can rattle Duds or Raisinettes,
I promise not to nag.
You can rest your feet on seat backs,
You can even use your phone.
You can cop a boorish attitude
And hoot when actresses get nude.
Just leave a space between us, dude,
I need the buffer zone!
You don’t know me; I don’t know you.
We simply share the health club pool.
We’ve both an extra pound or two,
So let’s observe a simple rule.
Since you’re well-padded ’round the glutes
And I’m no statue by Bernini,
I won’t wear skin-tight Speedo suits
If you won’t wear a string bikini!
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
On NPR this time of year
A chatty pledge drive volunteer
Reminds us that it’s time to make donations.
He’s full of praise for Story Corps,
World Cafe and Tell Me More,
The shows you just don’t get on other stations!
He lists the latest donors’ names,
Wanda, William, Jenna, James,
And rarely can you hear the slightest stammer.
The number’s always on his [...]
When cruising on the Interstate,
The guy I most abominate
Is that obnoxious S.O.B.
Who tries to pass at 70,
Thus giving me no end of pain
By blocking up the left-hand lane
And breeding hatred in my soul
By screwing up my cruise control!
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
An everyday cliché ignores
this scientific datum:
A quantum leap is tiny.
It occurs inside an atom!
So when you need a metaphor
For distance, please recall,
If you “take a quantum leap ahead,”
you haven’t moved at all!
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
For seventeen years I’ve been doggedly rhyming.
I’ve worked on perfecting my rhythm and timing.
I’ve written in anapests, iambs and trochees
For various readers from scholars to Okies!
I’ve memorized Seuss for his wit and his beat.
I’ve sat at Shel Silverstein’s metrical feet!
I’ve tried to be clever and sometimes profound.
And what gets an audience? ”Pants On the Ground!”