Today's poems [6.6.19]
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A musician who lives in Bangkok
Has fiddle strings tied to his cock.
When he gets an erection,
He plays a selection
From Johan Sebastian Bach.
The Killer's Apology
Here I sit, upon death row
Electrodes fastened to my toes.
And though I know that I must die
I think I should apologize
To those I know that I have wronged,
Beaten, strangled, stuck with prongs
It was not what I really meant
All those deaths were accidents.
I did not mean to murder Sam
Though I beat him with a ham.
He said the meat was much too dry
So I used his head to tenderize.
And I did not mean to dispatch Sue
by filling both her lungs with glue.
I should have known there were better
Ways for us to stick together.
I have to say I quite regret
Defenestrating my pal Chet.
But really, how was I to know
That window wouldn't just stay closed?
Becky's death -- a random fluke;
My prints were planted on that flute.
And though they searched high and low
They never found that piccolo.
I spare a moment for good ol' Jake
Who I deposited in the lake.
I always thought that he could swim;
I guess the restraints are what did him in.
And oh, how I do miss Peter
Though I stuffed him in a water heater.
He might not have made it in this verse
If I hadn'ta stuck him in head first.
Bonnie, my bonnie, my, what a lass!
Taken down by methane gas.
If I only knew then what I know now:
Don't ever mess with a farting cow.
And I'll admit, the point is moot
Albert I did electrocute.
Children, never take this risk:
Water and toasters just don't mix.
Wendy was an awful neighbor
But I'm sorry about the elevator.
I did not know she was in the thing
When I snipped the cable like a string.
I'd like to remember my good friend Drew
Who I served up in a barbecue.
It was his idea, really, because you see
He always liked to say "Eat Me."
I think I was misunderstood
When I tied up Katie in those woods
She always said she liked the bears
So I put honey in her hair.
Alan claimed he was a jock
So I crushed him with a rock.
His boast that he was made of steel
Was something rather less than real.
No one was more surprised than Joan
That ferrets stripped her to the bone.
Reflecting, I see I was foolhardy
To place bacon up and down her body.
Mike had on an amazing grin
When I set him in liquid nitrogen.
I did not do so for the hell of it;
I wanted to put him in his element.
Bob declared I was a buffoon;
I set him aloft in a weather balloon.
But there is not one who felt more grief
When that balloon popped at 45,000 feet.
Jeremy was timid, Jeremy was shy
I placed him in an oven and set it on fry.
I should have known better, that this was not
The way to help women to think he was hot.
So you see every death was quite accidental
I would not blame you if you thought I was mental.
But I would say that it is rather as such:
My problem was just that I cared too darn much.
Now here I go, to meet my God
And all of my friends that I put in the sod.
I have just one wish, if you lean close to hear:
It's to help them up there as I helped them down here.
-- John Scalzi
copyright(c) John Scalzi
John Scalzi is a columnist and humorist living in Virginia.
For more columns and essays, visit his website: www.scalzi.com
The only problem
with Haiku is that you just
get started and then
- Author unknown
The Night Before Christmas
Twas the night before Christmas,
And all through the house,
Everybody felt shitty,
Even the mouse.
With mom at the whore house
And Dad smoking grass,
I'd just settled down
For a nice piece of ass.
When out on the lawn
I heard such a clatter,
I sprung from my piece
To see what was the matter.
Then out on the lawn,
I saw a big dick,
And I knew in a moment
That it must be Saint Nick.
He came down the chimney
Like a bat out of hell,
And I knew right away
That the fucker had fell.
He filled all our stockings
With pretzels and beer,
And a big rubber dick
For my brother, the queer.
He rose up the chimney
With a thunderous fart;
The damn son of a bitch
Blew the chimney apart!
He swore and he cursed,
As he rode out of sight,
"Piss on you all,
And have a hell of a night!"
Under the spreading chestnut tree
The village smith he sat,
By abusing himself
And catching the load in his hat.
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