I write poems. Most of them are gross. I like gross poems because I like to get a reaction out of my wife. She usually sighs. Sometimes it's more of a scoff. I've actually published two poems in Humpty Dumpty magazine, but they were serious and not all that much fun to write. I don't include them below.
A Mystery Solved
There are many questions in this world,
I wanted to answer one.
I needed little for my task--
No food, no map, no gun.
I didn’t need to travel far,
Or save a lot of money.
It didn’t matter if it rained
Or was overcast or sunny.
Bigfoot I did not care about,
The Loch Ness Monster? Boring.
Vampires, Werewolves, Zombie Hoards
all just left me snoring.
The Bermuda Triangle swallowed planes,
Someone wrote CROATOAN.
Did aliens build the Pyramids?
I don’t care or KNOWAN.
The mystery for me to solve was sitting in a chair.
Her eyes were getting heavy,
She fell asleep right there.
I listened very carefully,
The moment was at hand.
I dared not move a muscle,
Things were just how I had planned.
And then I heard it, a booming roar,
It gave me such a start.
My question had finally been answered.
Yes, even grandmas fart.
The pollen count’s high
That’s what the news said
I’d better just stay in bed.
My eyes will be itchy
I’ll sneeze the whole day
There’ll be a dull ache in my head.
Yep, I better just stay in bed.
'Cause my nose will start running
And then I’ll start coughing
And I’ll use up a tree's worth of tissue.
So I think I'll stay home and not go to school
so my ah-choos will not be an issue.
When I get bored my fingers,
wander here and there.
Sometimes they scratch behind my ears,
sometimes they twirl my hair.
Today one went a'searching
in a place it often goes.
It passed my mouth and headed north,
it darted up my nose.
It was gone for quite a while,
but eventually withdrew.
And then I saw that it had found
some unappetizing goo.
I thought that I might wipe it
on the bottom of my chair,
but when I went to do so,
there was some already there.
Another Booger Poem
When I get bored I pick my nose.
It's really very fun.
I dig real deep and poke around.
My work is never done.
Today I found four boogers.
They were gooey, they were green.
I wiped them on the carpet,
So they could not be seen.
But when it was time for recess,
I had not a moment to lose.
I ran across the carpet.
Now there's boogers on my shoes.
My grandpa says he forted,
But we all know what he means.
It happens almost every time
Grandma bakes her beans.
After he admits it,
Grandma rolls her eyes.
“Better out than in,” he says,
And then my grandma sighs.
I always feel like laughing,
But I try to hold it in.
And that’s when Grandpa smiles at me,
And then he forts again.
My Hairy Dad
My dad’s not really bald
Although his head is bare
If you know where to look
You’ll find lots of hair
His armpits have a lot
His arms and legs do too
His chest is like a jungle
And his back hair is quite new
No my dad’s not really bald
In fact he’s very hairy
And there’s no doubt when he swims
He can look a little scary
Randy Whitforth Daniel Gray
Randy Whitforth Daniel Gray
Did not brush his teeth today.
He did not brush the day before,
He said, "I won't brush anymore!"
His mother pleaded, his father raged
And after dinner, a war was waged.
But Randy kept his mouth shut tight,
His toothbrush stayed well out of sight.
In the morning, when he awoke,
His father said, "This is a joke!
Your mouth is gross, you're coming with me!
If you won't brush them, we'll see Dr. Lee."
The dentist said, "Now open wide."
He leaned in close to look inside.
The teeth were yellow and coated in gunk,
There was leftover food and the breath really stunk.
There were pieces of fish and small bits of egg,
And the crusty remains of an old chicken leg.
Some green stuff was growing on parts of the gums,
And when Randy sneezed, out flew some crumbs.
The dentist chiseled and scraped and drilled.
He found six holes that had to be filled.
After three hours, Dr. Lee was done.
He'd cleaned every tooth, one by one.
Randy leaped from the chair in a rush.
Where was he going? Straight home to brush.
THE MEXICAN EXPRESS
Last night I ate three tacos.
They tasted really great.
But now I've got a problem,
and it doesn't want to wait.
The train has left the station,
it's barreled down the track.
It's pushing at the barrier.
It's looking for a crack.
Sweat crawls down my forehead,
my stomach really hurts.
I sprint into the bathroom
I've got the Hershey squirts.
There’s a stone at the edge of the graveyard
It isn’t much to see.
There’s a taller one to the left of it
that looks more important to me.
But mom never seems to notice
that its shadow falls on her face
when she kneels on the ground
and touches the name
of the person who rests in this place.
Easter Eggs With Legs
In a pot, I boiled them,
this year’s Easter eggs.
And after I had colored them,
I went and gave them legs.
I put them in a bowl last night,
so Mom could hide them today.
She says she never saw them.
I guess they just walked away.