Your Fault

go awol on your mission in the army of rudeness

default on your loan of harrassment

declare bankruptcy in your economy of hatred

leave your spouse of bigotry at the altar

be bad at what you are bad about.

it’s the good you didn’t think of.

ET poem

My grandmother always did remind me of 

 

ET the Extra Terrestrial.

 

Just her face, really, and her grayness.

 

Honestly I can’t say for sure that she wasn’t ET.

 

Memories aren’t that reliable,

 

They kind of are slippery in the mind,

 

Like ET, and like my grandmother.

 

When I get to heaven,

 

I won’t know what to say at certain occasions.

 

Do I say, Grandmother, I missed you.

 

Or ET, I knew it was you.

 

That doesn’t mean I pray to ET,

 

Or to my grandmother.

 

That is another thing 

 

that ET and my grandmother have in common.

 

I do not pray to either one of them,

 

And I don’t scatter Reeses Pieces in the backyard

 

To try to lure them both back to earth.

 

I don’t believe in that, 

 

though if I ever saw two ETs at one time,

 

I would almost assume that one of them

 

Was my grandmother.

 

Something confusing is to watch the movie ET 

 

At Christmastime.

 

Because my grandmother used to visit us on Christmas,

 

So is she really there?

 

Or is it just a movie?

 

You can say it is just a movie,

 

But why would I pretend not to know my own grandmother?

Maybe some readers don’t want to read a good poem

Maybe they want to read this poem.

 

That just says hello and then 

 

Trails off at the end with no meaning.

Poem Lesson

Not all poems have to be a zinga zing zang.

 

A ringa rang rang

 

And a glass full of tang.

 

Some poems might just want to flop,

 

Like a lop that hops to Stop and Shop.

 

For instance, this is a poem asking 

 

The government for a pet rabbit 

 

And a checkered suitcase

 

Full of magic marbles.

poem

 Today's sermon is entitled,

I guess it's all just a crapshoot

Animal Behavior

God’s going to commit suicide when he reads my poems.

 

He’s not going to believe some of the ideas I thought of.

 

That one that says, 

 

“dessert first, that’s my rule, dessert last, also cool,

 

He’s going to say, “Why isn’t this in the bible?”

 

He’s going to write a new bible that says more about guinea pigs and other rodents.

 

He’s going to say, this is why I sent my son to die on the cross,

 

For this very reason,

 

And then he’s going to create a new rule

 

Even stricter than the golden rule,

 

And it will be called the platinum rule,

 

Where you cant say anything

 

Without first eating a plate of tarts

 

And a mug of hot chocolate,

 

And then go to the mall

 

To buy a blanket 

 

for every groundhog

 

disguised as a friend.

 Poem

 

What if Judgement Day is organized

According to the high schools people went to

And it is like a battle of the bands

With points and scoreboards

 

 

Poem

 

You know how they have those churches

That are modern and are called things like

The Edge, or the Verve, or such and such?

What if there was a ministry called “Bullcrap.”

 

“Hey we missed you at Bullcrap last week.”

God knows that trick

 
when the grocery store is collecting pop tarts 
for the homeless shelter,
don't say,
"I wish I was poor."
Just buy yourself some pop tarts some time
and try to keep a job.
 
At church, don't make fun of that lady with the head tremor
by pretending you have a head tremor.
Just nod a little bit when the preacher says something about Jesus.
 
I mean, my Gosh, 
 
not everyone can work in a Tic Tac factory
and watch movies about rodents on their lunch break.
If you want gallbladder surgery,
then damage your gallbladder.
It all adds up if you multiply by eleven.

Priority Seating

People riding on the train

Some are crazy, some are sane

Who knows where they’re going now

Or when or why or what or how

But when I close my eyes I see

All that matters is not me

Jesus is the mourning star

 

Jesus rises in the east

Or in the west or where its best

Or where its worst or where its first

Or where there’s people who are cursed.

 

He spins the worlds that heaven holds

And heals the cruelest winter colds

And tells the darkness it must hide

And says he knows that people lied

 

He takes the poems that have no truth

And writes them in the book of ruth

And takes the art that shouldn’t be

And makes a better mystery.

 

He says I know you didn’t care

Except your heart is truly there

And that is why the angels fly

In God’s own glory of the sky.

Anger in the hands of a sinner’s God

 

They say we hang by just a thread

But that will sometimes cause me dread

When people need salvation fast

And I am scared they will not last

 

I feel the pressure for their case

And think the thread is my own face

And anything I say and do

Is how God chooses who is who.

 

With stuff all hinging on my life

And what I say to solve their strife

So then they tell me their demands

That cause me shackles, traps and bands

 

But that is simply not my job

To say who has to wail and sob

So next time I’ll refer them where

Our God will let me just not care.

poem

I think something 
people would not expect
Is if bomber planes
dropped a bunch of 

ploughshares on a country

Pizza for One

God is treating himself

To some correct regard in my mind today.
Some perception of him as a nice God.
A good giver who cares about my life.
A creative director who thought of some 
funny mental health adventures.
Some life that I had a say in or didn’t,
As I also treat myself to a frozen pizza,
Which was just what God knew I wanted.

Muggle Hugs

flash mob of dementors

Blocking the grocery store

The cash register connects

To the dark web

please remove card

Do not remove card

Transaction complete

Transaction canceled

Please remove card

Get on your knees and beg

Or we will admit

God hates us.

A C in Racism

I'm not KKK.

I'm not MLK.

I'm just A-OK.

Interview

Would you say that life is so complicated,

the only words left with any meaning are slurs?

 

Not necessarily. Some food is still what it is, like an orange.

 

What do you mean by that?

 

I mean the next fall of man will probably be from an orange.

 

Hmm. Fascinating.

 

Do you mean fascinating like a book, 

or fascinating like a piece of green diareah stuck to the toilet bowl?

 

I don’t know.  Let’s move on. 

I guess my next question is, would you rather go to heaven

Or have a chance to slap every single person who has ever existed?

 

Well I guess we don’t know that’s not what heaven is.

Like just slapping people.

 

Is that how you interpret the Bible?

 

I don’t think this poem is in the bible.