Skipping class, ****** off his ***,
Never showed and never passed
Teacher was teachin' it
But Dylan never needed it,
Writ to his own beat
And now he's free wheelin' it
On down the road
A heavy moss laden load
Sixty-one routes
And that stone keeps a-rollin',
The times keep a-changin'
The river keeps flowin'
Rainy day women
And legalized growin'
Bob cantcha spare,
A nickle or rhyme?
A solid gold medal,
Nobel poet sublime?
Sing us a song
Jingle jangle along
The Luckiest Wilbury
In the Wilbury throng
Singin' so right
It must be wrong
Keep doin' your thang
You'll never get gonged

We've all got memes
Deep down in our genes
Passed down and passed out
Bursting our seams

There are memes in the air
Thoughts and feelings we share
Ideas spinning round
In the clouds everywhere

When was the first meme?
When two primates dared to dream
The same dream, the same things
Long before we had screens

I haz a bucket
A cheeseburger
A chair
I laughed and I clicked
I edited and shared

We're all forging memes
Fresh, new ones everyday
Memesmith is the role
That every poet must play

Memes are part of our soul
They're in our DNA

Shel Silverstein and Roald Dahl
Live just down the hall
From each other
Somewhere in my mind

'Cause these ***** old men
Are known to have penned
Many favorite kid books of mine

But they also worked blue
And wrote more than a few
Naughty songs, novels and rhymes

They stayed true to their style
They'd go the extra mile
Their ****'s guaranteed to blow minds!

I'm so angry
I'm seeing red
I'm screaming profanities
Inside my head
My blood is boiling
My ears shoot steam
I look like a cartoon
But I just feel mean
I just want to smash
Everything
I want to slam and curse
And rave and sing
All the songs that sound real mad
All the words that get out the bad
All the anger I've ever had
I want to roll it all
Into a giant ball
And destroy the ball
In front of you all
To burn up my anger
And watch the ashes dissolve.

I was up to my shoulders
Down in the hole
uncovering waste pipes
Outside your home

I said please don't flush!
Stop up all your drains
I told you I'd know
I thought you were sane

The pipe was wide open
Some water came down
A few little turds
And some paper came round

I asked you twice more
One time per occurrence
Each time it was gross
But I got your assurance

We got the job done
But it sure was a ******
The moral of this poem:
Don't **** on your plumber!

Hello poetry is not happy
Hello poetry is not well
Hello poetry is not healthy
Hello poetry's gone to hell

I see these thoughts and sentiments echoed
In different forms upon my wall
I feel it too as I click and stumble
As I watch and wait for the wheel crawl

I've only been here a little while
I like the format, I like the style
The thoughts, the words,
The shares, the smiles
But why is loading
Such an arduous trail?

Hello poetry's not so bad
I've got plenty of patience
Hello poetry doesn't make me mad
It offers me contemplation

I click, I stumble
I wait, I mumble
"502, the gatekeepers in trouble..."