Poetry inspired by watching endless comedy central.


My Daddy is a Homeless, Drag Queen Hooker

Once upon a time in a land of woe
there was a drag queen hooker by the name of Joe
he was butch and tall and hung like a horse
and he was very straight - of course
He hooked all night to put food on the table 
and he went by the alias Good Ol Mabel
Able Mabel! The truckers did call
but he was not like the other hookers at all
for he had a son and his name was Pete
and they were homeless and lived on the street
Dear Daddy, Dear Daddy said little Pete
Where do you work, and whatís on your feet?
Those are my heels, so strong and tall
and Iím a street hooker the best of them all
though little Pete Iím not like the other dads
not a doctor, or lawyer, or drive a cab
I provide a service as you will see
For today is bring your child to work day, come with me
Petey and Mabel went out into the night
and he watched his dad with such delight
Throngs of men came from near and far
to have Able Mabel do her job in their cars
and when Mabel was through, they laughed with glee
son turned to father and said happily
Dear Daddy, Dear Daddy, I hope to be a homeless, drag queen hooker one day
so youíll be proud of me
the end


Heatherís Mommy is a Closet Case

Heatherís mommy is a closet case,
she hides her butchness behind skirts with pretty lace
she wears lots of make-up and styles her hair
she says she loves her husband, but she really doesnít care
But late at night, when her husbandís asleep
she sneaks to a bar called the Vaginal Beat
There she dances with girls of all ages
some are in chains, some are in cages
Oh my, says Heatherís mom, I like it here!
Oh bartender! Bartender! Bring me another beer!
She sat at the bar and had such a good time
till she looked at her watch and said, Christ, itís 9!
She hopped out of the swing and went to her car
and drove out of sight, away from that bar
She put the key in the lock and opened the door
but saw a flash of lame, maybe even more!
She saw boas, feathers, and high heeled feet
and moved up to the face Ė it was her husband Pete!
They stopped for a minute and looked up and down
then broke out in laughter and bounced all around
Iím a dyke, youíre a fag! Things couldnít get better!
What joy! What bliss! Letís go tell Heather!
They sat by her bed and told her their tale
And one thing more ---
Heather, you were born a male.
The end.

Severed Head
by Jeffrey Dahmer

I severed off a head today
but where it is I cannot say
It could be in the kitchen
it could be in the drawer
It could be in the bathroom
lying on the floor
It could be in the attic 
It could be on the stairs
It could be in the living room
lying on a chair
I think of all the places
that a little head could hide
but it's very hard to think 
with the sirens on outside.