Banana Vanilla Soul Cake

You shouldn't trust an evil man to bake a cake.
He'll put in the eggs and flour and butter and baking soda and all that.
But then he'll mix in a thousand innocent souls.
And a few overripe bananas.
He'll mash everything up, bruising the poor souls like crazy, and then he'll put the batter in a cake pan, and the cake pan in the oven, and in forty-five minutes all the innocent souls will have been baked to death at 450 degrees.
You'll ask him, "Why did so many pure and sinless people have to die for the baking of your cake?"
And he'll say, "I was out of vanilla."

What a Mouse Won't Do for Cheese

There once was a man named McSneeze
Who did drugs ‘til his brain turned to cheese
When he slept, mice crept in
Through his ears to begin
To devour as much as they pleased.

Ten Ways to Look Good in a Bathing Suit

friendly old people love us.
we're clumsy but so also are flamenco dancers sometimes.
we want a blue pony and a feathered cape.
somebody is listening to waterfalls somewhere.
we're hug-deficient.
our clothes are all dirty.
europeans are all going to burn holes in their lungs.
there are eels in the sea, right now, as we speak.
can you imagine mistaking a codfish for a codpiece?
mental existence is a limitless and incomprehensible void and magazines tell you ten ways to look good in a bathing suit.

Motherhood

If you are oviparous, your kid is in an egg
But if you’re viviparous, he comes out from ‘tween your legs
Now, if you’re histotrophic, then your baby ate his brothers
But women with placentas are called hemotrophic mothers
If you’re ovoviviparous, then you’re pregnant with your eggs
(Predicting when they’ll hatch is not the simplest thing to gauge)
And platypuses, I might add, are oviparous mammals
Which saves them from gestation (up to 16 months for camels!)
Now if you’re viviparous, there’s four types of uteri…
And if all this overwhelms you, I suggest you be a guy.

A Dentist for Witches

I want to be a dentist for witches

I want to scrub their teeth shiny bright

I want to fill their rotten old cavities

And floss their blackened gums with all my might.

I want to have them rinse out with fluoride

And use the suction spit wand in their cheeks

I’ll do a root canal with nitrous oxide

And see them for a check-up in two weeks.

When the check-up’s done, they’ll get a travel toothbrush

And I’ll wag my finger, saying, “Keep ‘em clean!”

‘Cause you see, I have this theory that it’s toothaches

That makes witches act so gosh darn weird and mean.

A Tough Decision

I once knew a man who was not very clever
Or pleasant or smart or kind.
And one day he was forced to choose
To become either deaf or blind.
He said, “Well, blindness is nice because
There are so many ugly things
Just think! I’d never see poop or slime
Or a cockroach’s feelers or wings.”
“But deafness,” he mused, “has advantages too
‘Cause there’s so much unbearable noise
I’d never hear scrapes, slurps, burps or drips
Or the tantrums of two year old boys.”
And as he continued to think, he remembered
More ugly things he’d seen:
“If I were blind, I’d never see
a wound or a corpse or sardines.”
And he also remembered the awful sounds
That made his neck hairs freeze:
“If I were deaf, I’d never hear
A nose blow or a sneeze.”
So that by dusk, he couldn’t decide:
Did he like sight or hearing the most?
And when they asked him, “Deaf or blind?”
He answered assuredly, “Both.”

A Glimpse Into the Mind of a Patient Suffering from Seasonal Affective Disorder

Please cuddle with me, Mr. Sun
It's winter and there is no one
to cuddle with against the breeze
Oh, Sun, you are an awful tease
to be so far above my head
Why can't you be inside my bed
and wrap your golden rays
around my shivery self? What praise
would bring you here, what bribe
would make you leave your azure sky
to come to me and snuggle tight
and comfort me against the night?
And yet with winter's shorter days
you seem so distant, far away
that I can't feel your heat
and so, I dream of when we'll meet
and hold each other tight and feel
each other's warmth and eat our meals
together. I'll spoon food into your mouth!
Oh, Sun, why is it warmer South?
And would you love me even more
if I lived at the equator?
That isn't fair, you know I find
I love you more than all the Southerners combined
You've always made me so enchanted
and I won't take you for granted
'cause I owe my life to you, and cannot beat
the wintery blues without your heat
Without your love, I am undone!
Please cuddle with me, Mr. Sun.