Humor · Love · Sex

1-800-Dial a Piece | Poems that Suck

My new lover called today, 
 purring obscenities in my ear
  like a fat cat about to get its fill
                                  on something juicy.

In my excitement to get
 it in, I decided to Nair, 
  rather than shave my thick, 
   auburn, pubic hair.

We were naked an hour later, 
 when he recoiled in horror.
 I turned my head to look, then
   had to explain that it was a chemical
    burn and not, in fact, Herpes. 

Humor

The Shit You’ll See in Paris | Poems that Suck

I was walking along a narrow,

Parisian street; very posh,

the kind with neat hedgerows

that camouflage the iron gate

intended to keep

the riff raff

out.

I was having a pleasant

morning stroll, but

then a giant pile

of dog shit

came across

my

path.

I paused for a moment,

nibbling on my

chocolate croissant,

mulling over

the turd in

my way

before

continuing

on.

Not five steps away,

I beheld what was

very clearly a

skid mark

that repeated

every three

paces

or

so.

I quickly put the

pieces together,

some unfortunate

fellow had stepped

in that

shit

not

far

back

And had spent

half a mile

trying to

scuff it off

the bottom

of

his

shoe.

I gazed at the

last, short

skid shaking

my head.

Surely, this

was a

commentary

on

life.

Free Verse · Humor

You Need Humor to Make it Out Alive | Poems that Suck

 I shit my pants once -
 now, hear me out: 
 

 I was eating Chinese,
 a greasy eggroll, 
 so greasy I made
 a comment 
 out loud
 about it. 


 Against my better judgement
 I ate the thing 
 anyway. Hours
 later, I left work
 not thinking
 about that
 fucking
 eggroll.


 I gambled and lost, 
 as they say, and
 I began laughing
 hysterically
 because what
 else can 
 you do
 with your
 pants full of shit
 and a 15 minute 
 ride home? 
Humor

A Confessional. | Poems that Suck

 Remember that time,
 about 15 years ago,
 when we were driving 
 down some Texan 
 backroad?


 It started with you
 wriggling against the seat
 but soon turned into 
 a desperate scratching.


 "What the hell is wrong with you?"
 I shouted,
 "Fucking itching won't go away!"
 It took some moments, 
 but then I remembered.
 

 Two days before,
 when we were in the shower,
 I shaved your ass-cheeks
 while you washed your face.


 15 years later,
 and I'm still laughing.