A Poem of My Dog

A Poem of My Dog

I love my dog,
He's only a pup,
But when he's grown,
I'll eat him up.

I'll cook him with onions,
Peppers, and cheese,
And serve him with salad,
Iced tea, and peas.

I'll invite my friends
To come to the meal,
And if by dessert,
They're my friends still,

I'll feed them some jello,
Shaped like a hat,
Topped with whipped cream,
And hair from my cat.

The Poem Of Strange Soup

The Poem Of Strange Soup

My mother served a bowl of soup,
But something moved inside the goop,
I shouted and I raised my fists,
I hollered loudly, "What is this?",

"Just something I whipped up." she said,

"But something's in here! And it's not dead!

She looked at me with pitying eyes,
"Darling, please. Now realize,
Bodies twitch, even when they're dead.
So don't complain, you got the head!"

"The head of what?" I ventured to say,

"Your hamster, Fred, who died today."

The Bacon Poem

In high school, I wrote a few silly poems and brought them to share with classmates. At the time, we were suffering through studies of pretentious poets I couldn't stand. In response, I attempted to provide an alternative to their cryptic, calculated verse.

The Bacon Poem

You taste so good,
With fat a-drippin',
And in the pan,
You're finger-lickin' (good),
I never cook you,
In portions meager,
You hiss and pop,
Which makes me eager,
To chomp you down,
With eggs and toast,
But I love you bacon,
I love you most.