I'M NOT LAZY; I MAKE STEW

When I have a lot of work to do,

I do nothing, except make a stew,

I take a special pill,

So I can eat roadkill,

Or my skin turns green, and then turns blue.

WHAT DADDY MAKES IN THE BACKWOODS.

I had some fun juice that tasted so fine,

No after affect like banana wine,

I drank it for my dinner,

It earned title of winner,

I think daddy makes if from needles of pine.

WINTER WOED ME GOOD

It is the winter of my woe,

It got so cold I froze my toe,

Can't pay for heat, I'm out of doe,

The roof caved in because of snow,

I'm burning books, so heat I'll know.

MARSUPIAL STEW

I went and scraped marsupials off the road today,

I had to really scrape them, cause they had dried up in the clay,

Consider yourself a winner,

Cause we're having them for dinner,

I know it does not smell so good, but it keeps the bears away.

 

THE SURVIVALIST POEM

I decided to be a survivalist,
So, I moved out to live under the stars,
But, there is just this tiny little twist,
I happen to be living on Mars,

The air on Mars is not so good,
And, there isn't much to eat,
And, good luck finding firewood,
A drop of water is a treat,

Perhaps I'll move to another place, 
To show I have a survivalist pattern,
I won't give up and show disgrace,
Instead, how challenging could be Saturn?  

THE DROUGHT SURVIVALIST

All my tomato plants died in the drought,
As did the rest of my garden which made a drought rout,
So, with no veggies to eat,
I'll rely now on meat,
And, the crick has gone dry so no trout.