The Canary Poem by Randy Johnson

When my uncle bought me a gift, it was something I had to bury.
When I opened his Christmas present, I received a dead canary.
He put it in a cage and wrapped it on the first day of December.
Feeding and watering it was what the idiot failed to remember.
Cussing and yelling was what my neighbors heard.
When I receive a present, I don't want a dead bird.
When I yelled and cussed, my uncle said that I wasn't showing gratitude.
But when I receive a dead pet for a present, it tends to put me in a bad mood.
My uncle is so dumb that I'm ashamed to admit that we're related.
He was actually surprised when his present was something I hated.
My uncle would win the Nobel Prize if the prize could be for people who are dumb.
He actually suggested that I take the dead bird to the pet store and ask for a refund.
When it comes to dealing with my uncle, my patience is wearing thin.
And I don't ever want to receive a Christmas present from him again.