The Whiskey Cow

You’re bored you say? You’re bored right now?

Well, then, I’ll milk the whiskey cow!

I'll simply grab my milking mitts

And go right out and squeeze her tits

Just ten to twenty hearty tugs

And we’ll have whiskey in our mugs

Then we’ll get drunk! Hip hip hooray!

How does it sound? What do you say?

You say you’d like to drink some booze

That did from whiskey-udders ooze?

Too bad! ‘Cause whiskey cows aren’t real!

So you’re just going to have to feel

That boredom. Go on! Let it in!

Be boreder than you’ve ever been

Let boredom soak you with its juice

‘Cause otherwise, well, what’s the use

Of being human? See, you must

Feel all the feelings, or you’ll rust

And boredom is a feeling, right?

So FEEL it, dummy, just sit tight

And be a human! K? Sound good?

You are not made of glass or wood

So just BE bored, be grateful, see?

Not for the bored, but for the BE

The feelings, well, they come and go

But you can always BE you know

And you don’t NEED a whiskey cow

When you are in the here and now

The present moment is at least

As good as boozy-uddered beasts!

Perhaps it’s better, ‘cause it’s free

At least that’s how it seems to me

A whiskey cow would cost a lot

And then there’s all the food you’ve got

To give it every single day

Like barley and alfalfa hay

And milking seems like quite a task

When you can simply get a flask

Of whiskey, from my whiskey hoard

Which you should do, because I’m bored.

A Silly Woman

A woman with a broken wrist

Insisted she did not exist

I said, “You damn well do, old hen!”

She said,  “Okay, well, prove it then!”

“I’m looking at you, I declare!

I see your fingers, nose and hair!

I hear your voice, I sense your heat!

Like me, you’re made of human meat!

You’re solid! Mortal! You have weight!

Your heart and organs palpitate!

You’re sentient, you have cognition!

Look! You moved! You have volition!

You’ve been 'round since your conception!

You know that! Proprioception!”

“Lies!!” she said. “That’s how things seem

But what if we’re in someone’s dream?”

This silly statement made me pissed

And so I broke her other wrist

“Ooch! Ow! That hurt!!!” I heard her squeal

“Calm down,” I said. “It wasn’t real.”

A Special Guy

“You know my friend Jake,” Julie said with a wink

“He’s unbearably rare, he’s distinctly distinct.

He’s…how can I say?...he’s unique, sui generis

Among planets he’s Earth, among cities he’s Paris

He’s eminent, striking, bizarre, distingué

He’s different from others in every which way

He’s special, he’s peerless, a keepsake, a prize

Not all can behold him, his light blinds their eyes

He’s the wolf in the story of little pigs three

‘Neath the princess’s bed, he’s the singular pea

He’s the treasure of pirates, a trophy, a gem

He’s not one of us, and he’s not one of them

He’s Godlike, he’s wondrous, he’s highly regarded

(Shh, is he gone? Here’s the truth: he’s retarded.)

A Trip to the Kitten Store

I went to the store, they had kittens galore

They had kittens and kittens and kittens and more

Kittens and even some kittens with spots

They had kittens, oh boy, lots of kittens, just lots!

They had kittens with eyes that were green, brown and blue

They had kittens in, out, near and up the wazoo!

They had kittens who spit, they had kittens who drool

They had snorkeling kittens inside of a pool!

They had kittens with tails as long as a rope

They had kittens who frothed after gobbling soap

They had kittens in hats that were striped, plaid, or gray

They even had kittens in silk lingerie!

They had kittens with eyes that popped out of their head

They had kittens who wrote, they had kittens who read

They had kittens with claws just as sharp as a blade

They had kittens who knew how to make marmalade

They had kittens who’d died, and become kitten ghosts

They had kittens whose breath smelled like cinnamon toast!

They had kittens with Gods, and some atheists too

They had had cats kitten-sized ‘cause the cats never grew!

They had kittens with wings, they had kittens with scales

They had kittens with jingling bells on their tails!

They had kittens that offered me cookies and tea

And kittens that dosed me with pure LSD
And kittens that locked me inside of a room

And told me my real name was Reggie Bamboom

They said, “You have one phone call, so make a good choice!”

I called up my girlfriend and said, “Listen, Joyce!

I found the best kitten store ever today!

They even have kittens in silk lingerie!”

Well, Joyce said, “You’re weird, Brad,” and hung up the phone

So I have no more phone calls, and I’m all alone

And now, about Joyce, I just don’t feel the same
I’m Reggie, not Brad! She’s forgotten my name :(

My Goblin Once Gobbled My Grandma

My goblin once gobbled my grandma

Right here on the living room floor

My parents said, “Take care of grandma.

We’ll be home in an hour or more.”

Well my goblin escaped from his basket

And attacked grandma’s very plump waist

He ate her except for her eyeballs

He must not have liked how they taste

So then I had just grandma’s eyeballs

All wobbly and weird, to be sure

And I dressed up my dirty old goblin

To look just a bit more like her

I made him take out his own eyeballs

And put grandma’s in, in their place

I added on lipstick and wrinkles

To re-create grandma’s dear face

Then I put him in one of her outfits

A particularly smelly old gown

And I gave him recordings of grandma

To play when my folks were around

Now my goblin agreed to this set-up

But he put one condition in place:

I have to keep feeding him grandmas

Or he won’t change his body or face

I said “Okay fine!” ‘cause that moment

My parents came home from their trip

They brought along Dad’s mom, Petunia

Who has a great mole on her lip

When my goblin caught sight of Petunia

I bet you can guess what he did

Now the rest of her lies in a coffin

With petunias engraved on the lid

And my goblin disguised as my grandma

Was carted right off to the jail

Then the cheeky chap phoned me and asked me

To send more grandma meat in the mail!

“You ate both my grandmas!” I told him

“A promise’s a promise,” he said

Then he growled, “You know I’m a goblin.

Break your promise, and son, you’ll be dead.”

Well, that gave me the heebies and jeebies

So I fled down to old Mexico

And I listen for old lady voices

Wherever I happen to go

‘Cause if I hear recordings of grandma

Saying, “Oh, that goes straight to my hips!”

It could be my jail-escaped goblin

With grandma blood still on his lips.

Techniques for the Management of Emotion Vessels

The bikes that I had in my brain

Were traveling out of their lane

For example, the bikes in Lane Fear

Would quite irritatingly veer

To the lane on the right called Irate

Or the lane full of potholes called Hate

And the bikes in the lane of Aggression

Would crash into the bikes in Obsession

And the bikes in Indulgence, of course

Would often end up in Remorse

While the bikes in lanes Nervous and Tense

Would often crash into the fence

So I hired a Brain Traffic Cop

To get all this madness to stop

The cop, though, was scared to go near

The anarchic and lawless Lane Fear

So he hid in a pothole in Hate

With his rude middle finger held straight

“You’re all terrible drivers!” he’d curse

And he made all the traffic get worse

So I paved over all the damn lanes

And thought I’d start over with trains

I figured with feelings on tracks

I’d prevent any road rage-y acts

But the trains crossed and crashed all the same

And really, I’m only to blame

Who else would have thought it was sane

To install a conductor-less train?

So I started all over with boats

And I don’t mean to boast or to gloat

But it’s really worked out rather great

‘Cause Fear and Aggression and Hate

Obsession, Indulgence, Irate

Floated worse than a big armored tank

And gradually, thankfully sank

While Humor, Contentment and Luck

All float just as well as a duck

So with water instead of concrete

My brain has become nice and neat

(Except the boats Nervous and Tense

Which still often crash into the fence.)

Five Clever Echidnas

Some fellows had some hearty sips

Of whiskey-spiked insecticide

Both poisons trickled through their lips

They cried a lot, and then they died.

And their fresh tears absurdly fell

Upon the ground where insects hide

Those insects, in their soggy hell

Ate tear-stained dirt, and promptly died.

Then five echidnas ate the ants

That had the poisoned dirt imbibed

But they wore anti-poison pants

Echidunot! So they survived.