World of dust

Don’t get curious when you’re cleaning.

Hazardous, that, if you get my meaning.

My little brother, he was only eight,

He’s very little, not packing much weight.

On the powerful vacuum so fascinating,

He did some too thorough eye-investigating.

It sucked him right in, with a loud hiss.

When mother came she saw something was amiss.

She looked under the couch and above the refrigerator

She looked high and low, a real investigator.

No sign of little brother, none whatsoever.

A disaster like this, it’s not enough to be clever.

My baby brother now lives among the dust

In a world without a sun. now he must

Find his way out if he is ever able

In the dark, with a stick, a piece of a cable.


Flatulence connoisseur

I have a friend who’s a flatulence fan,

She likes her beans and peas straight from the can.

After a home-cooked meal she is able

To entertain herself the whole evening without cable!

I’ve never seen someone laugh more than her

After feeding peas to a dog, that won’t recur.

Some say flatulence is childish and dull

Or somehow shameful, get that to your skull!

Just because children have the courage to laugh

Without any holds barred at someone’s social gaffe,

When adults pretend to feign indignity all the way

Doesn’t mean it’s childish at all, eh?

I admit I had to crack up once as well,

She farted in my presence and found the smell

To be horrifying beyond her wildest imagination

And almost fainted like a startled crustacean.

The connoisseur of farts had met her match

And I laughed and laughed, I couldn’t catch

My breath for a minute and I almost died,

But it was worth it to see her hidden side.

Contract killer

“Let me take a drag beforehand to look cooler.”


I don’t work for cheap, that’s true.

But I get the job done, and done well too.

There’s an idea and it’d be good if it dies?

Arrange the payment and close your eyes.

How do I work? You don’t want to know

Just describe the target and cough up the dough.

It’s one of yours? Well that’s a first.

You want to live your passion, lifelong nursed,

Of traveling the world and painting with oil

To avoid the rat race and mind-numbing toil?

Alright, I see, this won’t take long.

Just kick back and relax, we can’t go wrong.

I will now come closer and whisper some words

They will kill the idea of being free as birds.

Listen closely and listen well, sonny:

“With this idea you can’t make money.”

Now it’s dead, put the payment in the pot

As agreed, 15 gummy bears, fresh and hot.

Have a nice life, son, and do come back

If you ever fall off the too-well-beaten track.