Expendable

It isn’t looking too good for me
A slave to the state I’ll never be
I believe in science (done properly)
But not when used to coerce the free

To sacrifice their own self worth
And rights reserved upon their birth
So traitors with financial girth
Can hand the dark a docile earth.

Just Shy

Amber, ocher, and vermilion
Decorate the fall cotillion
Dainty debutantes will cluster
Scattered by an old man’s bluster
To float around the dim pavilion
With all the coyness they can muster.

Screwed

The sauced-up suitor
Went on the computer
Looking for someone to love
He fancied a tumble
With somebody humble
That looked like an angel above

He found a chick willing
And sat there just spilling
His heart out in hopes of a score
A couple days later
Like a muffled vibrator
He heard a soft knock on the door.

They chatted politely
Him smiling brightly
While wondering what he should do
When she said, “No maybe,
I want you baby.”
And a passionate night would ensue,

He woke in the morning
A brief note adorning
His mirror as the alarm clock sobbed
It said, ’Sorry Honey
I took all your money.’
But somehow he didn’t feel robbed.

😆

Life’s too short to stay upset
So remember this whenever you fret:
Whatever happened will surely pass
Keep on smiling when kicked in the ass.

Famous Last Words

Each taste I’ve had
Was just a lick
In ways I’m glad
It didn’t stick
I may be mad
But I’m not sick
For every fad
Is over quick.

Air Cover

Like a little orange jet it flew
Just to land within a few
Feet of my sore feet

It stuck there in the muddy soil
As though resting from it’s toil
Surrounded by the fleet

That likewise left the hangar bare
Until the spring recruits are there
To fight the summer heat.

On Track

I heard the train chugging through the fog
But couldn’t see it till I neared the rails
And still I knew that every bolt and cog

Was there and working as it was designed,
So on we walked, the dogs with wagging tails,
And me relieved I hadn’t (yet) lost my mind.

Load

Those that can
Simply do
Those who can’t
Pass their rue

On to those
Who were done
So it goes
Work ain’t fun.

Melancholia

The musty smell of rotting leaves
The scent a summer lover grieves
It lingers in the autumn air
Like wispy roving of despair
That threads the loom on which the Maker weaves.

Snip

Dahlia’s trying to bloom
But Jack won’t give her room
His icy unrelenting grip
A date with doom

She tried her best to nip
It in the bud, but couldn’t slip
His sparkling advance
Turned power trip

It only takes one glance
To see her only chance
Is ending (expeditiously)
This deadly dance.

Appetite

The urbanites
Demand delights
As taxes hit
Record heights

The common man
Has a hollow pan
To pay for shit
The peons plan.

Steamed

I could care less
But I don’t

You should finesse
But you won’t

We would be fine
But we’re not

You crossed the line
And I’m hot.

Outlet

If you only keep droning the lie
But never once utter a ‘why?’
I urge you my friend to refrain
From handing these psychos your brain
The smirking deceivers so smug
For they know that you’ll never unplug.

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Respite

Don’t get too invested
It’s best to be rested
So your mind can go wandering at will

Your patience was tested
But patrons ingested
Much more than the usual swill

And once they’ve requested
Your fare uncontested
You’ll probably be chained to the grill.

Laborious

The lush is a leech
Draining all within reach
The blonde is a bitch
But I don’t give a stitch
The idiot irks
That’s work, full of jerks
But dawn helps inspire
Cessation of ire.