The hands have moved.
The sun is up and down.
Stars shift.
Tides advance and recede.
...
I was a teacher.
I loved the job.
I didn't need to be intelligent.
Many of my students
...
When poets die,
Sad, but true,
It matters not
What their bodies do,
...
I'd rather hit the links today,
And take an eight on five;
Blame the wind or shift of weight,
Than shovel out my drive.
...
Who's comb-over looks like shite?
Donald's comb-over looks like shite.
Who scared us shitless election night?
Donald scared us shitless election night.
...
I chose ice-cream
Over yogurt;
Strawberry, vanilla or chocolate.
Each equally without prejudice
...
When you write
Your next verse,
The active voice
Is a better choice.
...
On the Emeral Isle when the brier's green,
Occur strange sights seldom seen.
There's golden rainbows and small clay pipes,
And wee folk dancing every night.
...
Those dog days of summer
Near forgotten and gone,
Are stored for the winter,
Now remembered in song.
...