Fiction, comedy, music, pop-culture musings, and other awesome nonsense from a disembodied head floating in the ether...
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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