Frank told me that he loved poetry. Always wanted to be a poet.
Instead, he became a dentist. His parents made him go to college and then medical school for dentistry, but he absolutely hated it now.
He sneaks out at night to go to poetry readings in coffeehouses and he reads his poetry.
Wakes up tired, exhausted. So tired, he makes mistakes.
As if he cares at his work anymore.
“I just blow through checkups now,” he says. “I get paid either way, right?”
I just stare back.
“Oh. Right. You’re fine. I think. Whatever. Go ahead and spit.”
Tag: cliche
The Darkness Upon The Deep
Ever been on a boat
Out on the water
Miles from shore
No maps
Waiting for the night
The sun goes down
Laying back, looking up
With just the stars
No waves
No noise
No light
Looking up at the stars
So many lights
So bright
So calm
Falling up
Into the midnight sky
You’re nowhere
You’re everywhere
Feeling nothing
No cold
No heat
No breeze
So peaceful
And then, a horn
What?
How?
Oh no
Falling from the sky, you rush to the engines
Start… start… start…
Will you get out of the way before that container ship hits?
The Tarmac
Hey, Scotty!
Put your helmet on and meet me on the tarmac in five.
You and me, we’re going flying!
That’s right! I got the biplane fixed.
Repaired the wing, replaced the engine, and even got the control cables tightened up.
Good as new.
Well, okay, it’s better than new.
Because when it was new, yeah, we crashed into that tree.
Don’t remind me. It still hurts when I sit down.
But we’ll forget all about that when we’re back in that plane and in the air.
Just to be safe, though, how about we cut down that tree first?
Turtle Wax Soup
Thanks for coming to dinner. I’ve prepared something special.
No, not my turtle soup. Turtles have gotten too rare and expensive to put in turtle soup.
And it’s cruel to the turtles.
Hence, my latest creation: Turtle Wax Soup.
Mmmmmmmm. Turtle Wax Soup.
Sure, it’s a bit thick. Almost a pudding.
And it’s not terribly appetizing. Tastes like car wax.
(Which, I suppose, it is.)
Yes, the oyster crackers is made from oyster shells. Picked them out of the neighbor’s driveway myself.
Just as I took his bottle of Turtle Wax while he took a break from washing his car.
The Navigator
Robert The Navigator looked over Captain Blood’s map.
“You’re shitting me, right?” he said.
Captain Blood raised an eyebrow.
Robert pointed at a sea serpent in the corner. “Ever seen one of these?”
“No.”
“How about this?” Robert pointed to a fat-cheeked blowing cloud.
“Well, it’s not to be taken too literally.”
“And am I to believe that this land here actually exists?”
“Um, that’s Italy.”
“Shaped like a boot? No, really… what child drew this?”
“Serpent ahoy!” shouted the first mate.
Captain Blood watched as Robert was thrown overboard.
“Good show, Blood,” said a nearby cloud. “Need a gust?”
Bacon Man
When Bacon Man
Has no bacon
He grabs a bottle
Of bacon-flavored syrup
Made by Torani
The syrup experts
And with his
Mighty fist
Twists off the cap
While cursing the world
For the lack
Of real
God’s-honest bacon
Within reach
“Where is my bacon?”
Shouts Bacon Man
“What is Bacon Man
Without bacon?”
Nobody answers
He stares
Angrily
At the bottle
Raises it
To his lips
And drinks
It’s not bacon
But it’s bacon enough
For Bacon Man
He drinks
And drinks
And drinks
Until the bottle
Is empty
Bacon Man belches
Drops the bottle
And sits there
Scowling
The Killing Stone
Ever kill two birds with one stone?
It’s not that hard to do, really.
Especially if they’re chickens. Bashing in their heads with a stone is really easy.
In fact, if you’ve got them trapped in the coop, you can pretty much wipe out the whole flock with one stone.
Dropping a large paving stone on a bamboo cage full of finches or parakeets will take out half a dozen easily.
Ostriches are another case entirely. Those, you have to wait until they’re asleep, and take really careful aim before hitting them.
Otherwise, they’ll kill one human with one kick.
Bigger dreams
Little Susie dreams little dreams of little things.
She’s starting to dream of bigger things.
Sadly, the bigger things don’t fit in her little dreams.
So, she’s trying to dream bigger dreams to fit them in.
Oh no! Those bigger dreams won’t fit in her tiny head!
“I need a bigger head for my dreams,” she said to her mother.
“Ask Santa for one.”
To make a short story shorter, yeah, Santa gave her one.
She’s the kid over there with the gigantic head, full of big dreams.
(Most of which involve being able to walk again without falling over.)
A sticky situation
You heard about Joe?
Joe spends all day sniffing glue.
It all started when he was trying to glue two things together and they didn’t stick.
“Does glue go bad?” he asked his wife. “You know, like milk.”
“Does it have an expiration date?” his wife replied.
He looked for an expiration date on the bottle, but there wasn’t one.
“Nope. Maybe if I smell it…”
And that’s when the glue-sniffing started.
“No, really,” he’d say, as high as a kite. “I’m just checking to see if it’s still good.”
Then he’d sniff and let out a long, slow “Yessssssssssssssssssss.”
They call me Mister Spiffy
They call me Mr. Spiffy.
Not because I’m anything special or anything.
It’s my name. My name is Walter Spiffy.
Oh, sure, I think people are talking to Dad when they say “Mr. Spiffy” but Dad’s been gone for years.
Not dead. Gone.
Not very spiffy at all, really.
Left when I was twelve.
I guess things weren’t all that spiffy in the Spiffy Family.
Never gave a reason, just walked out the door and never came back.
He left his bowling shoes, too. He never went anywhere without those. Even the shower.
Check ’em out. Don’t they look spiffy?