I'd rather see a smile than a frown And I'd rather be a naught than renown I like my yolks runny And I like my jokes funny And I like insurrections put down
Tag: limerick
Four Seasons Total Satisfaction
The election results are now clear And loser, you're out on your ear We wish you the best Just kidding, we jest Now choke on this summons, you hear?
I am embarrassed by my own ill will here, but damn I’m tired and I don’t feel well. What should be a joyful win for decency is soiled by the fact that we are still a country with 70 million MAGAs who are not going anywhere. Who will be the next fascist fuck these grousing lack-wits glom onto? He’ll be a smart one next time, none of this keystone cop coup d’etat bullshit. He’ll have a major political party behind him again too, just like his predecessor.
Am I wrong? Please tell me I am wrong.
Coup
With solid red states turning blue They're throwing out votes by the slew Sow confusion and doubt To suppress the turnout What elsewhere the folks call a coup
judgment.me/accounts
I get points for my time spent in churches The accounts also note the besmirches By the things that I done That seemed innocent fun And the terms that I used in my searches
Cloud Five
They tell me that everything's fine With the folks up on cloud number nine I continue to strive Here on cloud number five At the back of a very long line
The Gulf
The gulf between wonder and wander Is something we may like to ponder The mind likes to plunder Our thoughts, and down under Our feet like to up and go yonder
Picnic
I admit that the place is not fancy
but why you object I just can’t see
yes, the kitchen’s a mess
but you’ll see, more or less
like a picnic, it’s rugged and antsy
A Tiny Christmas Mass
He was born as the Light and the Way
So let’s honor His birthday, okay?
Return us tomorrow
To violence and sorrow
If we must, but for now let us pray
–
Image: wikimedia – The Birth, by Paul Gauguin
(first posted here December 25th, 2017)
A Tiny Christmas Mass
He was born as the Light and the Way
So let’s honor His birthday, okay?
Return us tomorrow
To violence and sorrow
If we must, but for now let us pray
–
Image: wikimedia – The Birth, by Paul Gauguin
rouler sa bosse
my teeth are half gone, though I floss
and my gains are what many call loss
I stammer and stall
when the creditors call
and I pine for some rouler sa bosse
