Poetry corner #2, with Mr. Smash

Hello and welcome ladies and gentlemen,

Today we are going to have a soothing time, reading the poems that we've brought in today.  Let's start out with Star Wars, the Phantom Menace.

I love snow, I love rain,
I like water, and rain
The rain, the rain, the rain, the rain, the rain, the pain tamales inside me beckon
No more..... No more.

Another one, from Canada:

I'm boba fett, I want my space shuttle,
Do you know where my space shuttle is?
Hey, hey do you know where my space shuttle is?
Thwart the Queen of Evil Dragons

And another, from Missouri:

The parade is today.
My birthday is today.
Yay.

Here is a poem from Washington:

I like chicken, and chicken likes me.
Inside out chicken, is the place to be.
Chicken whispers in my brain,
telling me to Thwart the Queen of Evil Dragons

From Oregon:

Sick days make pick days. Pickle days are green. I've got a pickle on my computer screen.
Pickle the Dragon, Queen of the Thwart.  Pickle me this? Gymnastics of course!
Simple days jumping, among roads of gold.  Told me this softly, spoke Peter the old.
If you take a monster, and shun him up water. Canada Canada is not Harry Potter.

Merry Christmaslug!

DAYTON, OHIO

Ouchie ouchie, that's the other one, ouchie ouchie
Ouch! Ouch!
Put the other one down, right here!
No, put it AT me!
No, put it OUCHIE!
I know what we can do, we can put it SLIDE!
OUR SLIDE, help help
I know a better slide we can do!
This one, this one is better!
Do the blue one now!
AAAAAhhhhh, stop it ouchie ouchie!
I kicked your car.

I don't know, what can we do? I don't know what we can do. Flaaarrsssh nebar! That is the new soup brand that's sweeping the nation of Gonswela Revenge! My grandma bought the soup once, said my grandma.  It exploded her insides.  Don't buy it.

Do you want a couch purse in a tissue box? I got plenty of those, you can make ghosts out of it, it's lots of fun.  Some of my hobbies are: Making squids out of tentacles, and roses, and pulling teeth out of chairs.  Sometimes my doctor says that I have inflonia, which means I have inflonia, bad.  And my doctor is ..... tree bread.

OOOOOHHHH tree bread.  The best christmas slug.  I put you in a paper bowl made out of tiny shoes of my nephews.  You had a good life.  While it lasted.  We took a picture once, or rather, you took a picture of us, before it all happened.  What's that? I hear you.  It's like a whisper in the wind.  The wind of a diabetic zebra.

6/11/15

MR. FLAVER'S BACKYARD

The crippling dilemma of sewer rabbits.  On June 15th, exactly, 1997, four years ago, Mr. Flaver called the police and reported some sewer rabbits.  ABCs! ABCs! ABCs! ABCs!

It doesn't matter, that's not going to help.  We're talking about Mr. Flaver remember?  When the police came to their house, they found a carrot.  Not just any carrot, a neon toxic carrot.  Filled with drinkable sausages, radioactive iodine, and Native American chlorine. Everything about it wasn't bad, except that your insides would get cleaned out.

They immediately brought it to the lab, where Dr. McStuffins operated.  After further investigation, they discovered that these carrots-cheesepuffs-Native American Sausages were just the remnants of Dr. McStuffins lunch.

Now back to the present day.  The sewer rabbits are out of control.  They have built small cults and reside in country-side homes and plan for lizard people to take over the Earth, at least that's what the stars tell them.  They did pay us to put in an advertisement:

CALL 1800SEWERRABBITS! You will pay a down payment of 2 million dollars to go towards weaponry to fight the lizards that plan on destroying the world.

Sometimes my gorilla decides to eat some of my piccolo peppers pokokos, but you know, that's usual.  I eat them for breakfast every morning because they give me a BURST OF ENERGY.  So when he does that I have to take him to the doctor to get them out of him so that I can eat them.

This just in: our intern JT just spit up some carrots so he could eat them.  "OK", he replied to the question of "Baseball".

Now to sports with our new intern JT:
"Hit the ball. Hit, the ball! Hit the BALL! Hit the BALL!"
What happens when someone hits a ball do they get a home run? "Home run yes!

Alright, now it's time for POETRY SMASH:

Poem1:
The water down flows down the stream like pee trickling down my leg.
The moon howls at the flowers when they go: HOOT HOOT, HOOT HOOT

Poem 2:
When my cereal is no longer crunchy, depression grabs hold of my earlobe.
No soggy cereal, no soggy cereal, no soggy cereal
*The sound of window shutters blowing in the wind*

Poem 3:
Clip clop clip, the rip of the paper goes toqwaqwa
And my brother says Ooh la la
The sound of a ruler snapping on my eyelid

Poem 4:
Crunch crunch crunch
OK yes

Yakima, WA

The following special is by our new intern JT, being interviewed by veteran reporter George Washington:

JT: "ABCs! ABCs! Sorry! Cats! Apple Juice!" *Slurping sounds for 2 minutes*

George Washington:  "So JT, what's your favorite kind of apple  juice?

JT:  "(unintelligible) .... dat one!"

GW:  "OK, so who is your best friend?"

JT: "All done! All done!" (Starts spilling juice on table) "ABCs! STOP! Fun, A B Ceees! A B Ceeees! Mickey Mouse! Mickey Mouse! Yes! Pet, Mickey Mouse.  

GW: "Do you like bananas?"

JT: "Yes! Banas! Yes Banas! Baloo lick it.  Baloo lick it. (JT licks the banana).  Baloo lick it!

GW: "Do you play any sports? Do you play baseball?"
JT: "Baseball? YES! Baseball? YES!"

JT: "Doggy outside! Doggy outside! Doggy outside! Doggy outside! Doggy outside! Doggy outside! Doggy outside! (laughs) Doggy outside! Doggy woof! Doggy outside! Doggy outside!"

JT: "Doggy doggy doggy!"

GW: "Are you going to clean the floors for us?"

JT: "Yes!"

GW: "Well this has been a nice interview."

THE MOON

Publisher Michael Hopscotch

JUST IN - We landed on the moon, it's cold up in here!  Very cold, make sure you buy some fuzzy socks from the moon store.  Anybody can get up in here if you believe in yourself. 

My brother, was a kind, thoughtful, ugly man.  He liked to ride giraffes in the sunset.  Then he died in 1594, that was a sad day.  And I'll never forget him.  Never ever. 

We had his funeral in the Cholula Hot Sauce Factory.  He loves hot sauce, I mean, loved hot sauce.  No, he's not alive, or in my closet like I already said.

*There are muffled thumps from the closet*

SHUT UP!  That was my cat.  He's a little rascal, he he he he he he he. 

Now, I've always dreamed of opening my old shop, called Burgerboy Fatburger Diabetes.  It's a catchy name isn't it?  Everything we make will kill you, I mean, make you live.  Come on down to Burgerboy Fatburger Diabetes.  It will NOT kill you.

And no, I am not a murderer. 

There's a BABY in here!  I like elevators. 

Halleluja! Halleluja!

Beep beep beep beep bip bip

Hurhurhuhhur.  Stop texting me. Okaaay! So. Sometimes people like to sniff pineapples, but then AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH.  I miss you a lot, like a lot! Awwwww, tykes. Um um, so just in breaking news:  My cat got super powers.  Now it can lift up blueberries.  So strong! Are my pants inside out? Um, I don’t know. Stop it! I need to think! 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZZ (as a bee goes on my eye).  David, what you doing? Me tooooO! As a bee goes on my eye (hahaha).  I don’t even rememver this, how did we get this candle thing? This thing is ginormous and such a waste of space.

It’s time for sing song time, with your host: FlubbyJubby Jr! 

Hey, my name is Jill, and I work at the button factory.
The other day, my boss said Hey!  Are you busy? And I said no.
Then move the button with your right arm!

Hey, my name is Jill, and I work at the button factory.
The other day, my boss said Hey! Are you busy? And I said No!
Then move the button with your left arm!

Hey, my name is Jill, and I work at the button factory.
The other day, my boss said Hey! Are you busy? And I said No!
Then move the button with your right leg!

Hey, my name is Jill, and I work at the button factory.
The other day, my boss said Hey! Are you busy? And I said No!
Then move the button with your left leg!

Hey, my name is Jill, and I work at the button factory.
The other day, my boss said Hey! Are you busy? And I said No!
Then move the button with your head!

Hey, my name is Jill, and I work at the button factory.
The other day, my boss said Hey! Are you busy? And I said No!
Then move the button with. Alright sorry, beep beep beep bip bip beep.

MASACHUSETTS, OH-Sometimes I just think about whales, and every time I do, I think about whales that poop their pants.  I just looked on the calendar and saw that it is May 31, 2032.  Every time I look at that calendar I think about whales, because my calendar is whale themed.  And, everytime I think about whales I think about the president or the mayor.  And I remember, his, awesome words, REMEMBER TO WASH YOUR TOES!

And everytime I think about washing my toes I think about the little people that live in my toes. Ahhh, let’s change the subject.  How yo doin, how ya doin?  How. Ya. Doing?  Nobody is answering.  WHO’S PLAYING CROSSING ROADS????! MAX!!

The hippopotamus, likes, to, eat my bacon. 
My bacon, my bacon, my bacon.
So good, so good, so gooooooooddd!

The last time the mayor spoke it was about poetry.  This time it is about bomb poetry.  Take your bombs with you and you have to say your poetry fast before the bomb explodes.  We have the contestants, here they are:

1.       Creepy Horse Dude with a Baby on His Stomach (and not inside, on it!)

2.       Poopy-Face McGee (Jr)

3.       The Potato Man David

4.       Shark Table

5.       Not Bob

6.       Tubing Sunflower

7.       Inulin the White Knight of Diabetic Whales

8.       AHAAAHAHAHHAHAHA … Pft

9.       OKTHATSALL

So, I hope you come tonight because everything is going to blow up and you’ll die.  Some encouraging words from your mayor:  I KNOW I SAID TO WASH YOUR TOES, BUT, ALSO WASH YOUR FINGERS BECAUSE YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT’S ON THERE.  AND WASH YOUR TOES, AND YOUR HAIR.  TAKE A BATH SOMETIME AND EAT SOME BABY HANDS.

Speaking of baby hands, we have a baby hands eating contest.  If your bring something else other than baby hands they will kick you out with a poetry bomb.