For no reason in particular I've written a couple dorky poems on Twitter this week. I figured I may as well share them with you. This morning, Jack&June experienced a small kitchen fire. After I found out that everybody was safe and the damage was minimal, I wrote:
Jack&June Is currently strewn With the remnants of a morning fire. One call to the station And the conflagration Was quickly forced to expire.I was trying to do a riff on the classic Jack and Jill rhyme. I'll let you be the judge of my success. Yesterday, a tweet by Fletch about the long line outside Tastee and the effects that dining there can have on one's digestive system inspired these lines that'll make Poe roll in his grave:
In Lincoln on 48th Street Sits a place of memories neat Serving sandwiches of loose meat From opposite the driver's door. As you snarf and slurp and nibble At the greasy sloppy kibble Your colon hints of coming dribble And you declare: Nevermore.Publishers are calling me 24/7 trying to sign me to a book deal.