You can’t really doubt
my superiority,
can you? Please. Get real.
****
It’s not that I can’t
hear you, buddy. It’s that I
choose to ignore you.
****
AS A CITIZEN
JOURNALIST, I DEMAND YOU
BRING ME ONION RINGS!
****
related: “The Quite Specific Humility Poem”
“More Pie!” he bellowed,
And the waitstaff moved quickly
To fill his gullet
Back in the kitchen:
“Damn citizen journalist,
I’ll piss in his pie!”
“Journalistic pie…”
The kitchen makes special pie
with lots of toe cheese.
All the better to
chase down the fresh parmesan
dipped onion rings.
But that is when it
all came to a screeching end;
Angioplasty.
Does the CITIZEN
JOURNALIST pie come with a
Scoop of free ice cream?
Another question:
Are we talking rhubarb pie?
‘Cause you know, fuck that.
Mincemeat is also
Right out because that stuff is
Just nasty, you know?
I wanted to write
A truely great haiku but
I can’t count.
All my haiku attempts
Seem to end up as
Limericks and vice versa.
See…?
Five syllables, and
Then seven, then five again.
Try to work in pie.
Seriously guys…
You must have better things to
do than write haikus.
Matt, you have got no
Idea how little my
Time is really worth.
[sob]
Oh how I love pie
Sweet, sweet, tangy – what? No not
that! Well yes, that too.
Humble Pie
“Ain’t no Rice pudding
like my lily white mamas’!”
bellowed Bobby Byrd.
“Iraq is a mess!
You need to clean it up, girl,”
barked Boxer to her.