Now THAT is funny. Poetic Miscellany Edition.

A poem by TheGrandmaBurrows



On Saturday -

my ego dropped to 0 then to

minus 0.



The problem began (still not

ended)

When bolts 9 & 10 failed to

reach through

Protective plate 11 and

rigid bar 12

And grommets 13 & 14 where

They were intended.




TheGrandmaBurrows was very smart, quite funny, and I am lucky to have acorned from her particular tree. Did I just use acorn as a verb? Is that a thing I'm allowed to do? Anyway, I thought I would share some funny poetic stuff in this week's column. PROBLEM-O: there is not much genuinely funny poetry in this world. Though I do love a good naughty limerick as much as the next person. I mean, you guys, do you know what rhymes with bucket? Oh, you do? Fine. MOVING ON. You know who was very funny and who I loved as a kid (read: still)? Shel Silverstein.






Spaghetti, spaghetti, all over the place,

Up to my elbows - up to my face,

Over the carpet and under the chairs,

Into the hammock and wound round the stairs,

Filling the bathtub and covering the desk,

Making the sofa a mad mushy mess.



The party is ruined, I'm terribly worried,

The guests have all left (unless they're all buried),

I told them, "Bring presents." I said, "Throw confetti."

I guess they heard wrong

'Cause they all threw spaghetti!




Also, a Google Image Search on "Shel Silverstein" reveals that there are people in this world that have Shel Silverstein's doodles as tattoos. I am not worthy to inhabit the same planet as someone awesome enough to have a Shel Silverstein tattoo.

I have one more poem to be shared this week. The source of the poem is a bit of a long story, but the short of it is that, before I found the Monster community, I spent a lot of my comedic energy trying to crack my co-workers up via email (confession: I still do). Some years ago now, ACoworkerBurrows and I were riffing about, God knows why, Tyra Banks writing bad poetry but no one caring because she is a Victoria's Secret model. We started writing little poems back and forth to each other in the voice of super model. This one is my favorite of the batch. Because I am humble.



A Super Model poem by TheKelBurrows



Whose shoes these are

I wish I knew

I think that they

Are Jimmy Choos



My little chihuahua

Must think it queer

To shop without

A Nordstroms near



Between the mall

And Krispy Kreme

The bestest bargins

Of my dreams



Those shoes are sexy, tall and rare

But I have bachelors to ensnare

And I really have to do my hair

And I really have to do my hair