Running Out of Time

I’m running out of time!
All these dreams I’ve yet to live!
I’ve done barely any crime
And have more guff to give!

I haven’t buried any treasure,
Never stole the gold to hide!
How can I take my measure
When I’ve barely even tried!

I don’t know a single elf or gnome!
I’ve yet to loot a zoo!
I haven’t got to haunt a home!
(Though suppose I may get to.)

I never overthrew a king
Or learned to darn my socks.
I regret so many things!
Like why’d I learn to read the clock?

Oh, it’s only noon?
And then the clock keeps rolling?
Though I’ve avoided doom,
I fear where midnight’s going.

Illustration by DALL-E.


You won’t take me alive!
I’ve nailed the door shut,
Booby trapped it with knives,
You don’t want to get cut,
I don’t want to clean up
So just stay back!
This thing’s gonna erupt!
These skunks will attack!
Every trap you can think of
Is ready to go!
From puppies to puppy love,
It’s ready to blow!
I’ve bolted beams across the walls
That dinos couldn’t crack.
This is a cage that calls,
“Get lost or get whacked!”
You couldn’t enter as air!
I’m safe, without doubt.
“Hello? Anybody there?”
Now, how do I get out?

The Chimney Snult

The Chimney Snult is built to bolt
Down fiercely fiery holes.
In waves of living flame it floats
Among the ash and coals.

It sits and sips upon the smoke,
It gobbles every spark.
Once one loved flame is lit and stoked
It rises from the dark

And wraps itself in sun-kissed cloak,
Lord of the hungry light.
Just listen for a sooty croak
To know the Snult is nigh.

While eating every Santa Claus
Dressed like a lucky flare,
The Snult lives for a single cause,
It has but one cold care.

The winter gives a blazing birth
To fire in chimney cage.
In the heat and heart of the hearth
The Snult dreams of ice age.

Illustration by DALL-E.

I Used to Fear

I used to fear the woods
Till I met its clawed and furred,
Shared berries and fish
And picked out their burrs.

I used to fear the sea
Till I met its scaled and finned,
With depthless wisdom
And endless toothy grins.

I used to fear the dark
Till I met its monsters,
The kindest creepers you will find
And scholarly on stars.

I used to fear other people
But that came to an end
When I learned they’re afraid of my friends.

On a Stamp

When they put me on a stamp
I wonder how I’ll pose.
Will I go gussed and glammed
Or without any clothes?
Should I smile?
I like my scowl.
I want to share my style
But pics can’t capture howls.
I’ll be sent worldwide!
What will show me best?
I want to show my pride
In being beast and blessed.
When they put me on a stamp
I need to show that something more!
The perfect pic of what I am –
One of a bug or bat or boar.


I have a hunger
That must be fed,
Ever since I was younger
It’s danced through my head
Straight into my teeth
And I’ve chomped and chewed
With no mercy or guilt underneath –
A human is my food!
This need to feed
On livelier crops
Might be a frightful deed
But can’t be stopped!
Great grisly gobs
Fresh from the fleshy shelf!
Don’t get mad and make a mob,
I only eat myself.
Enough chit-chat!
I’m a horrible cannibal!

What’s that?

Boogers don’t count at all?

How Am I So Bad at This?

How am I so bad at this?
I wonder all so much.
I’d drown as a fish!
Couldn’t make a fist
With a closed hand as such!

How am I so bad at this?
I do it every day!
Every swing’s a miss!
I’m cheeseless holes in swiss!
I lose twice for every play!

How am I so bad at this?
Not why, but how!
I’ve been doing it for years!
You’d think the fact that I exist
Would count for something somehow.

How am I so bad at this?
I’m glad to have to ask.
I’d be easy to dismiss,
So easy to like less,
If instead I were to ask,
How am I so good at this?