THE DEER ATE MY WINTER TRIP TO BARBADOS

I was planning on using my cash earned from potatoes,
To fund my winter trip to Barbados,
Of course my potatoes this year,
Have been ate by the deer,
And, my arthritis  won't let me pick tomatoes.

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U ARE WHAT U EAT

I eat so many chippers and kippers,

I'm growing roots and a nice set of flippers,

Chips and kips is all I eat,

Never touch red/white meat,

Or beans that give folks smelly rippers.  

HOW I SERVE MY TATER-TOTS AND TEA

I shop stores and yard sales for teapots,

I buy them as singles, or in lots,

I buy some cause they're  pretty,

I buy uglies out of pity,

I host tea, and serve frozen tater-tots. 

THERE'S A POTATOE GROWING IN MY PARASITE INFESTED PANTS

Last fall out in my garden, I got a tater in my cloths,

It made a home in my painter pants, and now it grows and grows,

Guessing the fert, I had lots of maybes,

Turns out taters love dead scabies,

I now have a tater farm, and my painter paints, I sews.

JIM'S ROTTEN POTATOES

The taters Jim raised have all become rotten,
He stored them last fall and they were forgotten,
He stored them under his bunk,
Where they stink like a skunk,
He still ate them and now he's gone trottin'.

THE PLANET WHERE WE EAT ONLY FRIES

I came from a planet where we only eat fries,
The fries come from potatoes and sometimes meat-pies,
One time we tried kale,
But, it made most of us ail,
And, led many to give departing goodbyes. 

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MY GARDEN IN THE MAIL

I got some seed that came in the mail, 

Now, I can grow me some peppers and kale,

I'll grow onions and toes,

Pickles and poes,

All with fert that comes from the tail.