Licking the devil

If hell was real and I had to go,

What would I do… Oh yes, I know.

I would find the boss, the red head honcho,

The big horned one with the human-skin poncho.

I’d say ‘Hiya Beelzebubba, how’s it hanging?

That canine necklace of yours is pretty banging!’

This might make him a tiny bit perturbed,

So that I could execute my plan, completely uncurbed.

I would sprint close and lick his red arm,

Taste the strawberry goodness, from Satan’s own farm.

Mmm, the devil’s strawberry-flavored skin,

I wouldn’t care about the trouble I’d be in.

What’cha mean how I know? Use your brain!

He wouldn’t be red if he was filled with grain.


Almost gentlemanly actions

This might be a suggestion on what to do on dates, or it might not. Reader discretion is advised.


Being a gentleman is nice,

But for me it will not suffice.

I like absurdity, that’s my aim,

The laughter it brings, not money or fame.

A female and a door, a deadly combination!

Open it ASAP, gentle conjuration.

But open it too little so she can’t fit through

Marvel at her expression of having no clue.

Laugh very heartily to let her know

No ill intention, no intended woe.

Going out to eat and you offer her a seat?

Like a gentleman, you’re fast on your feet.

Pull the chair just slightly to the side

So the armrest is what she’ll meet with her behind.

As she turns around, chuckle and smile

To prevent any hatred, anger or bile.

Going home after a fancy night out?

It’s cold outside, so I’m all about:

Here’s your coat, milady, if you please,

Holding it ready for her to wear it with ease,

Holding it ready, but a bit too high

So she can’t quite reach, be ready for the why.

The why in her eyes as she realizes,

The humor that was hidden, the bestest of prizes.

Almost gentlemanly actions just like these

Will have her swaying in the humorous breeze.

Speck, the Vulcan

Spock is the Vulcan from Star Trek.

He has a brother whose name is Speck.

He is a replicator in human form,

With pointy ears per the Vulcan norm.

The food comes out from a nostril, the right

The drinks from the left, because it’s a bit tight.

If you think it’s icky, well you know, he’s a Vulcan,

Not a dirty human like me or Macaulay Culkin.

You calibrate your wishes by pulling on the ears.

No fuss, no trouble, no clanking of gears.

Shoot it forcefully into your container,

Of course you bring one, that’s a no-brainer.

I don’t know if Star Trek has Tupperware,

But if not, then something else that’s square.

Spock likes his brother and that’s no wonder,

With him every party will fail to go under.

Just be sure to calibrate it well,

One yank too much and and your soda might smell.

Why don’t you?

“Why don’t you ever make small talk?”

(“Why can You never be silent?

When you sleep or eat or walk

Your barrage unending, violent.”)

“Why don’t you ask more questions?”

(“Why would I when I can just Google everything?

Because all those questions are acts of aggression,

In social belligerence, you are the king.”)

“Why do you never come with when we go out?”

(“Why don’t you like reading a book?

Crap music too loud? What’s that all about?

I can also enjoy Pooh or captain Hook.

“Why don’t you ever make eye contact?

(“Why do you look at me like I’m a car for sale?

Are you interested or is it just an act?

You are the vulture and I’m a beached whale.”)

“Why can’t you be more normal?”

(“Why do you think that that’s what you are?

If I can, for a moment, be informal,

If arrogance gave out titles, you’d be a czar.”)

The tyranny of extroverts has gone too far,

They think that they’re all there is.

Being too polite has left the door ajar,

Fight back, but quietly, after you’ve read this.

A highly polite bee

Today I learned that bees are polite.

The epiphany came in the middle of the night.

I heard my doorbell on the way to my bed,

“That’s a bit late” is what I thought and said.

I went down and opened the door,

And all I saw was darkness and hoar.

I thought a prankster had paid me a visit.

I thought “That ain’t fun, not at all, now is it?”

Then I saw the bumbliest bee

Floating in mid-air and glancing at me

And at the doorbell and at me again.

Five and a half minutes later was when

I gathered the plot of what’d taken place

The bee had buzzed so it could enter my base.

I didn’t wonder, the nights get cold,

So this voiceless dealer had me sold.

I preferred this to just barging in,

So enter it could, welcome within.

I prepared a plate with a drop of honey,

It had a sip and it looked at me funny.

Followed me as I went back to the bed

And lay down next to me as I read

The tales of Pooh bear’s and Piglet’s fright.

It lay quiet and listened, quite polite.


Adults are not children, that’s not news.

The former are bigger and can untie their shoes,

Walk on paths well-worn well before.

The latter explore much closer to the floor.

Leave it to a child to find a hole in the fence,

Or testing how many meters and cents

Is between the roofs of the neighboring houses

And if you can construct a bridge from blouses.

A bird cherry tree lived where I as well,

I tested every branch, and my mom did yell.

Something about safety, and fracturing bones,

I fell down many times, sometimes on stones.

Not an injury in sight, not counting the scrapes,

While finding out where you can harmlessly traipse,

Where you can clamber, where you can creep,

Where you’re not seen, and where you can sleep.

The bark of a bird cherry is not soft,

But I used it as a bed more than quite oft.

Where am I going? I don’t know.

Exploratory danger made me grow?

Maybe the worst hurt

It hurts when I stub my toe,

I might swear and blood might flow.

It hurts when someone calls me names

Not those ones like Jack or James.

It hurts most when I’m wrong,

When someone else’s reasoning’s strong.

When I think a thing objectively not true

I have to change and that tears me in two.

I feel stupid and reluctant to change,

Admitting my mistake does annoy and estrange.

Reading, talking, watching TV,

Can all lead to a more-annoyed-me.

I wish I learned to, instead of a pain,

Feel it in a different part of my brain.

Think that it’s fun when I’m proven wrong,

Just as fun as playing a new song.

I have a long way ahead of me, I know,

If I can’t learn this, I won’t grow.