Sometimes, when left to my own devices, I write poems. Now, I'm no Robert Frost or Snoop Lion, but I'll add poems here whenever they float across my cerebrum.
Tale of the Work-Crow
"I'm bored! I'm bored!" croaks out the crow,
and flies o'er fields beswept with snow.
His work to do is tedium,
a raging current of hum-drum.
Alighting near an icy brook,
he spends some time on his facebook,
then checks his e-mail, changes tunes,
depressed to see it's only noon.
Resolving soon to go to lunch,
He restlessly peers out from his branch
and claims for the third time today
"I'll start to work after this break!"
Advice for Your Court Date
If you wish to win your case
first you must put on your face.
Of course good arguments they'll seek
but no one likes an ugly freak.
So paint your lips!
Paint your eyes!
Mask yourself,
wear a disguise.
The things you say will get a pass
if all eyes are glued to your ass.
It works for prostitutes and boors,
it works for waitresses and whores.
It can also work for us,
let's try to maximize that bust!
So curl your lashes!
Curl your hair!
Make them pant,
and make them stare.
Your case will never hit a rut
When you look like a little slut.
If perhaps there is an afterlife
ours surely will be filled with strife
Yet comparatively we will do well
when we're the hottest chicks in Hell.
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