He snotted the walk.
Blocked one side of noz and blew.
Proper slimed the pave.

Unwary walkers
nearly busted their noggins
slipping all about.

Quite a crust it left
as it dried in the hot sun.
Ants gathered to feast.

Grizzly bear stopper
A cast iron frying pan
Applied to the head

a very strange man
argues loudly with himself;
hasn't bathed this month.

Evil Orange Drumpf--
He's literally Hitler,
but much much much WORSE.

Dear Liberal nut-case:
Your fatal error is this . . .
Trump is popular!

Lefty Progressives:
Could you please stop projecting?
We don't think like you.
And not such a prick?

Lost a contact lens
At the swimming pool. Found it!
Oh no. Verruca.

No need to worry.
Sea cucumbers have no brain.
Just nerves and reflex.

Although it's rumored
some of them write poetry,
but won't admit it.

Mister President:
Could you please be less racist?
And not such a prick?

Feels good up my arse
Do sea cucumbers feel pain?
Certainly hope not

Call Richard Simmons
Feast your eyes upon this gut
Get outta my way!

So, what do you think.
Football should be played with swords.
And butt-assed naked.

Birds in gilded cage.
That's what Americans are.
I wish I was there.

Trolls have no freedom.
Slaves to their own obsession.
Which makes them funny.

I don't like football.
And I did GTFO.
Not sure it was smart.

Your paid big money
To chase a fooking foot ball
Millions of green backs!

But you are oppressed
And hate America
Cry baby @$$ hat!

Get down on your knees
And thank God you were born here
Or GTFO!

Your paid big money
To chase a fooking foot ball
Millions of green back

But you are oppressed
And hate America
Cry baby @$$ hat!

Noisy bastardo's
Barking fooking GD dogs
No muffler chit cars

yowling stupid chit
Slamming fooking condo doors
Running power tools

American clods
Making noise like circus seals
Please shut the fuck up

Treasure your fat wife
And tell that other poet
To stop cry whining

What is religion?
God almighty obsession
Can quit any time

What a vile dimwit:
projecting your obsessions
on the rest of us.

My brethren poets.
Always lend a helping hand.
Inspirational!

Which nose doth thou blow?
Up above or down below?
I might be of help

We can put a man
on the moon but we cannot
write a good haiku.

A head full of snot.
Feeling weak and itchy throat.
Damn I hate the flu.

Your weekend update
No plans for the evening. ..Sigh
This zit ruined my life!

Such an awesome time
Nude rollerblading all day
American Tour

The high diving board
Is it dangerous to dive
With an erection

Overcooked hot dogs
Sometimes split down the middle
Quite frankly, I m scared

lmao

Your lame poetry
makes me hate myself much less.
Thank God I'm not you!

Adolph Hitler called.
Yep, a collect call from hell.
He said I'm evil.

Holding YOUR photo
Jizzing on your bad poems
Why my pants are down

Grandpa's pants are down
for YOU, every time, it seems.
Is that why you're nuts?

Next time God smotes ya
Look up in the sky and ask
Fuck s your problem,Dude?

Every single time
I go to visit Grandpa
He s got his pants down

another day goes
by, I am still here, and the
time comes when i go.

Popular Science
Gross! Pages stuck together..
Poetry Robot

Oh Redundant One
Let me help you hate yourself
in perfect Haiku

I think I need some goddamn waves... seriously.
Damn the fat wife and family... they are better off without me. I need to be eaten by a great white or bash out what little is left of my brain on a reef... fucking waves punish me over and over, pummeling, pounding, humiliating me and I love them more than life itself, goddamn it and I cannot deny what I am, just downright rotten bastard piece of selfish shit and I offer no apologies. I know what I need. Fuck. I hate myself, but that's okay.

I know about rage.
I've come to quite enjoy it.
Therefore I am Darth.

Sadly, there's no Force.
If there were, I'd be like God.
Rage, hatred, and greed.

I've become evil.
And I do not regret it.
I am a monster.

Too many wedgies
I'd gotten in middle school.
Oh the tragedy.

no rest for the wicked
evil thoughts consume me for
eternity becons my spirit

to hellfire, just my luck
im thrown i to the frying
pan instead at work

why cannot todats
youth just shut the fuck up and
enjoy the coachella

air and the transgender fetish
futa all that, thats all it is
wear a skirt, get the girl

i want to let go
of the past my undereyes
black with the weight

of percieved failure
yearsnhere busted dead or
alive my own fault

there are professors
i still feel rage at, long gone
i wanted to just

enjoy art, i stll
want to give the long dead a
boot to the rear end

restless these four walls
restless yesterday writing
is a sickness yes

this is the pus, the
poison, the infection comes
out on these pages

a wall of ice and
more ice builds up inside i
literal zombie

i cannot sleep, i
had no rest over this place on
yesterday...goodbye

just shut up they said
shrugs, it became no fun when
he just kept going

some dsy we will all
realize weve forgotten of
these places, and

we play chess at noon
at the coffee house, say screw
the evil liberal menace

to the barrista
oh thats just vhs

i get wound up and
i am rough on myself now
imagine putting

interbalizing this stuff
in real life at work, thinking
overthing, indigestion

just i cant quite sleep
at not quite an old age but
not young anymore