Thursday, January 25, 2018

Writer's Block: More Bad Poetry



To My Dog

Dog,

I am sick of your farts.

Get the fuck out.


To the President

Your brain is full of worms.


To My Wife's Cat

If I feed you cheese,

Will you stop pooping so much?

I feel I am making

A deal with the devil.


To My Television, My Wide-Eyed God

Is it bad to see nothing?

Is it wrong to feel the eye of malice

Forming from the blank black glass,

Styling itself a friend,

A diplomat to lost souls?

Is there nothing wrong to watch?

To hear?

To listen?

When I shout at you,

Why do you not shout back?

Please give me the friendship

I so desperately need.


To My Baby

I dub thee "Mr. Toots."

It seem that I am more tolerant

Of my flesh and blood

Than with the dog. 



  

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