Random
Acts
of
Poetry
Enter at your own risk.
End of the Road
honk if you love elvis
said the sun bleached sticker on the bumper
of the mary kay pink cadillac
hurtling down the county highway
the big bouffant matron sticking another
marlboro in her plump face
country's goin' straight to hell
fags uppity negros atheists foreigners
trashin' our culture screamed a
disembodied rant from the radio
goddam druggies should be shot
as she grabbed the jack daniel's
hid discretely under the driver's seat
where's john wayne when you need him
suddenly
the world ending in mid swig
cadillac mating head on with a minivan
the brief union bearing three
new members of the silent majority
amidst a shower of glass and blood
the dream is dead
Ode to All the Women Who Dumped Me
by
Tim Barrett Frowning
How do I hate thee? Let me count the ways.
I hate thee to the depths of the infernal place
My soul can sink, when feeling out of grace
For the end of Being and pointless strife.
I hate thee to the level of the lowest
Animal hate; by a dark and bitter song.
I hate thee freely, as men strive for Wrong;
I hate thee purely, as they turn from Right.
I hate thee with the passion to snuff out thy light
In my old vices, and with my childhood's rage
I hate thee with a hate I keep in a cage
With my pet demons,--I hate thee with my last gasp
Grimaces, sneers, of all my life!--and, Satan choose,
I shall but hate thee better after death.
De Generation
...to the tune of
My Generation
by The Who...
People try to give us strife
just because we have no life
things they do need much more Slack
think I'll try another Prozac
Refrain: De generation, de generation baby, de de de gen generation, etc. etc.
Why do you all s-s-say we're dumb
just go away you Yuppie scum
I'm not tryin' to be a big sedation
just talkin' 'bout De Generation
Refrain: De generation, de generation baby, de de de gen generation, etc. etc.
Mom
A prose poem about evolution.
She was born in the Indus Valley on a warm Spring day about two million years ago. There was nothing really remarkable about her appearance. She stood all of 4'1" and her mild scoliosis was one of her more apparent infirmities, but she also suffered from rickets and ulcers as well. Her life would end at the age of 27 due to starvation caused by lack of teeth combined with influenza. Before her death, she would bear eight immediate offspring, only three of which would live old enough to beget offspring of their own. The only thing noticeable about her to the other members of her group was that she could make strange sounds with her mouth which helped to attracted mates. It was caused by a mutation that gave her a slightly larger brain size, but significantly increased the size of a small lobe controlling her larynx. The mutation would be the critical one that would lead to the development of speech and the advent of Homo Erectus. Unbeknownst to her, she would be the mother of all humanity and her children would number in the hundreds of billions.
self-depreciating poem #28 sans upper case
by sir tim "e e" forte, poet lauriate extraordinaire
oh this poem's such a crime
cheesy words that almost rhyme
pointless, silly doggerel
from a literary mongrel
'tis but a waste of web space
slapped together 'just in case'
good news I do hereby send
that this poem shall now end
Terse Verse
"At least it rhymes"--Bemused Muse o' Poetry
Here lies ol' Lunatim
done in by a bad Slim Jim
'I've had my share of fun and thrills
now I'm pushin' daffodils!'
There were some folks from Saint Paul
who exhibited in the Art Crawl
their artwork can't be beat
they're up on Sixth Street
and between Wacouta and Wall!
Whether you're short
or whether you're tall,
you'll certainly enjoy
the Saint Paul Art Crawl!
Burma Shave
Violets are blue
and roses are red,
enjoy this here poem
from A unto Zed!
Sucrose is sweet
and likewise with you;
Cupid says "Yo!"
and Venus does too!
There was a young man from Fort Knox
who kept dynamite inside of his socks
his name was Tom Chang
he went out with a bang
and his coffin was just a shoebox!