Poems on topics both serious and not-so-serious
Human sperm are very small
Five microns, that’s about all
They are just a cell with a dangly tail
They’re just a fraction of the ovum
But still you’ve got to love em
And they’re produced in the testes of the male
I used to do avant-garde dance
With a blowtorch, blue paint, and no pants,
Which many folks guessed
Was genius, and the rest
Left gladly when given the chance.
Listen, my children, and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
Who rode along with Sam Prescott
And William Lawes, but Revere got
The nod cause he rhymes with “year”
The seventeen-year cicada crawls out of the ground
And looks around From a wall or a low-hanging limb—
He looks for her and she discovers him.
Let winter come and walk roughshod
With sleet and freezing rains.
We fear it not, we trust in God
And jumper cables and tire chains.
To people raised in a railroad shack
It is known as your butt crack.
To people who are more verbally deft
It is known as the gluteal cleft.
Was Ethel Merman a Mormon?
And how about Jessye Norman,
General Sherman or Uma Thurman?
Mormon? or German?
The bleachers are deserted, the lights have all gone dark
The field is empty, no names on the scorecard.
Nobody yelling “hot dogs” tonight at the ballpark.
The Mississippi at its mouth
Joins the Gulf of Mexico,
The west wind mixes with the south,
High pressure with the low.
When Mozart was three, he began to play the clavier;
When he was five, he began to compose;
When he was ten, already launched on his career,
He began to worry about his hair and clothes.