WORLDS BELOW: THE DINGHY, IN WHICH I FLOAT

Everyone, onshore complains, that I'm a daft, old, grumpy goat,

I spend all my time fishing in my dinghy; a tiny, tin boat,

No observed, worldly ties,

Seen by the shore people's, eyes,

The worlds I know, rest in seas below, the dinghy, in which I float.

THE AI FISH BOT

The new AI bot was never very sharp,

The new bot could fish for both salmon and carp,

For big tuna, it tried fishing,

That was just pee in wind wishing,

The bot got retired, and covered by tarp.

LITTLE FAMILY, MINUS ONE

I bought some market rhubarb, and black cherries, too,

They were a bit rotten, so I cooked them as stew,

I served it for dinner, bringing everyone joy,

Except big sister Mabel, and her son, Elroy,

Latter that evening, I made up some punch,

I used lemon powder and flat pop, left from lunch,

I could not be prouder, as family sipped down their drink,

Then nasty Elroy farted, and the room filled with stink,

Everyone went home; no wondering, why?

Elroy's flagellation, makes all parties die,

Mabel my big sister, won't make Elroy behave,

Elroy hugs his ma tight, when visiting, daddy's grave.

OLD GAMER VS. THE SMELLY MANDOLEAR.

I use to play the mandolin, the mandolin J played,

No one liked my playing, so with barn animals I stayed,

I stay outside, very well,

It is my mandolin smell,

My wife has a new husband, he smells like, pinball arcade. 

THE BASSOON MARCH

I grabbed a bassoon, and I marched down the big city street,

I made my feet slap the ground, to my bassoon blowing beat,

The police came along,

They ended my soon, song,

They took me down to the jail, and gave me nothing to eat.

I ONCE HAD A BIG GREEN BOIL

I once had a big green, boil, looming large on my right forearm,

The doctor cut the boil off, leaving a scar for chit, chat charm,

I then grew a great, big zit,

On my nose, it took a sit,

One of the critters bit it off, at granny and grandpa's, goat farm.

PUMPKIN

There once was a bloke, his name was Peter, another bloke, was named Pan,

The first bloke was a pumpkin eater, the second had a pumpkin tan,

Because they said her pumpkin pie was dry,

They both made their little, sweet mommy cry,

Mommy had a blind date greet her, she married him; a pumpkin pie man.

MY PORTFOLIO MAMA, AND THE TWINS

I promised my mama, I'd be curbing most of my sin,

Didn't expect, my stock prices to be sinking down, again,

Mama said, "bad luck", dating, Candy,

Much worse, "nasty", twin sister, Brandy,

I still took both out to good eats, and bought each a nice din.

A DART PLAYER NAMED MEL

I started green bean farming, way down in the deep dell,

Their countywide, square dances there are mightily, swell,

I kick up my guy heels,

To make girl appeals,

But, all the girls hang after a dart player, named Mel.

MATILDA THE ROOSTER

My little rooster chicken, will never hunt,

His name is Matilda, and he is a runt,

He likes blackberry brandy,

And, hard cinnamon candy,

He can't hold his liquor; he pukes, to be blunt.

THE ROAM OF MY IDIOT POEM

I drove to beach to pick up some fresh oysters, and maybe a few dozen fresh clams,

There were sheep in the road, so I did the beep, beep, but ran over a couple of rams,

The sheep herder was real mad,

I gave him cash, all I had,

The herder was excited; his pain unrequited, he tossed me off a cliff onto some rocks, and with one broken arm, I swams.

MY AVATAR IS A JAR HEAD

I am afraid I will need a new avatar,

Mine got run over by a driverless, cab car,

There's a large crack in his head,

The avatar is real dead,

I'll honor him, by putting his head in a jar.

PORK RINDS AND DOOMSCROLLING, WILL MAKE KAPPIE HAPPY

Kappie is a not too happy boy, a miserable old boy is he,

He always lifts great weights, eats powdered drinks, but real flimsy, Kappie be,

As lonely Kappie grows older,

Girl's reactions, grow colder,

Now that Kappie's past his prime, he should eat pork rind, and doomscroll his tv. 

BLUE TOTE ORGANIC FERTILIZER

My dear neighbor, has a herd of fat goats,

He collects their poop in plastic, blue totes,

He makes many a big buck,

When his totes fill up a truck,

Then from the truck, they're transferred to big boats.

LEE DID NOT PAY HIS TAXES ON TIME

Lee did not pay his taxes on time,
So, he committed a serious crime,
He'll spend years in jail,
And, so ends his tale,
Lee won't appear again in a rhyme.

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LITTLE GARGOYLES ARE CUTE, BUT I GAVE THEM THE BOOT

I did my daily doomscrolling after midnight,

The spirits squeezed up to my body, really tight,

On all the channels I could see,

Videos strictly about me,

Fighting gargoyles, that were one tenth of my height.

AFTER MY LAST TRADE, I DRANK DITCH WATER

All currencies went crashing, even the dollar and crown,

All of the stocks and bonds I own, went down, down, down, down, down,

My heart blew a right gasket,

They stuffed me in a casket,

They buried me in a ditch; I wore my funeral gown.

JOLLY ROGER WEASELS, OR FAMILY

Four weasels sailed together, out into an ocean bay,

Two weasels became rogue pirates, and decided to stay,

But Loretta and Seymour,

Swam back to the ocean shore,

They started a family, by the second week in May.

E AND GREEN BETTY

My friend Mr. E was a POI,

A person of interest, maybe a spy,

He spoke fluent Yeti,

Dated his secretary, Green Betty, 

Almost everything that he said was a lie.

Mr. E's secretary always wore green,

She matched the wallpaper and was seldom seen,

What she overheard, 

She recalled word for word,

Mr. E didn't need a recording machine.

Mr. E vanished shortly after the war,

Some say his enemies just evened a score,

The police found blood and makeup on his bedroom door,

And, one red-stained handkerchief on his living room floor,

The red stain turned out to be wine, just wine, nothing more, 

Betty died at age eighty, unmarried and all alone,

She still had Mr. E's stuff and number on his phone,

Betty said she knew nothing of E's vanishing thing,

But, she wore a rare green diamond in a gold wedding ring,

And, was buried next to a grave that had just "E" on the stone.

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SMOKING WILL MAKE YOUR NEIGHBORS, FLY AND RUN AWAY

I was on the screaming fire truck, as it left the big firehouse,

We headed out onto the hot burning plains, where lived, and dwelt the grouse,

The grouse were all in retreat,

Some were flying, some on their feet,

They claimed the fire was started, by a cigarette, addicted mouse.

FLOWERS FOR ALLEN RON

I bought some red roses, for my best mate, Allen Ron,

He lies out in the graveyard, next to his brother, Jon,

They were quite a bro pair,

Both were nerdy, and square,

I'm sure they've rotted away, for it's decades, they're gone.

HARD TIMES FOR TRASH NEDING CASH

I turned my car in, for some cold, hard cash,

I needed money, because I am trash,

I walked way downtown,

Bought a cake, twas brown,

Then bought a coffee, with my penny stash.

I HAD FOOD INSECURITY, UNTIL I FOUND MY TOES

I had a couple of extra toes, and I cut them off for the meat,

I went two days hungry, and needed something protein that I

could eat,

It is winter, so there are no bugs,

I checked the bed; I checked the rugs,

I did find a ciggy butt to munch, but it tasted just like dog feet.

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