April is Poetry Month

Heigh ho landed gentry! I apologize for not getting a chance to talk to you as of late- my job as editor-in-chief of The Doodletown Daily Print News & Advertiser has caused me quite a strain on the old schedule. Occupational time-burglary aside, there is something I want to get out to all of you T.S. Eliots and Emily Dickinsons on the world wide net web:

April is Poetry month.

That being said, as many emails, phone calls, and letters to the editor have pointed out, you really like my poetry. So to kick start this action-packed month, here's a little taste from my latest IQ fest .9MM Glock Uppercut Kindey Punch. I like to call it, "Stand Up Shut Up Roundhouse Kick to Your Face".

"Stand up shut up roundhouse kick to your face; now you know why the caged bird sings. You decided to stand up and that's what you get. Great party, huh? You were told there would be hor's d'oeuvres, so you didn't eat before you came. Now you're hungry and on your ass.

Here, let me write you a poem- what rhymes with "stinky douche"? In all seriousness though, you're a stinky douche. And in all seriousness, your mom is a MILF, and I tapped her sweet spot when you were on your way to the party.

Yeah, I went there. That's why I was late.

Here, I have a present for you: a book called The Littlest Ballerina. It's a story about the littlest ballerina, and how she tries really really hard to dance, but ultimately fails. You are the littlest ballerina. I'm the biggest ballerina that trips you and calls you skinny bitch.

Honestly, you make me sick. You are the wet spot at the bottom of the bag, the stain on the tighty-whities, the pee smell coming off the nursing home orderly- what?

Wait, you broke up with Kevin? Really, I didn't know- can I get you a drink?"

Let's rock April in style. Send Mr. Decent your poetry, and I'll post whatever poems are able to bitch-slap this crazy month.

Happy trails!