by Rick Young | Aug 31, 2017 | Poem
In the bottom of the barrel, the cream of the crop
languished, bruised, whipped and horribly folded,
busted crowns and halos all about.
The Crux Busters signature, plain as the glass
on your face, a blood oath written in pig latin,
a swarthy demonstration of demonic device.
At Crux Busters International’s yearly love fest,
nearly four thousand disappeared, mostly members.
"Remember to dismember" was the current theme.
Pay the dues or you lose.
It’s an all-night red light special in the death bin.
by Rick Young | Aug 29, 2017 | Poem
You are the cat’s pajamas.
You are the dog’s bow tie,
the extra L in llamas,
the owl’s nighttime eye.
You are the sow’s silk purse,
the horse’s lucky shoe.
You taught the bird to curse,
now he’s a cockatoo.
You are the rabbit’s foot.
You make the goats all dance.
You make ’em all stay put
with just a sidelong glance.
You make the mink’s coat silky.
You make the pigeons coo.
You make the cows all milky.
Yes, I go wild for you.
by Rick Young | Aug 28, 2017 | List
Consequences (n) the numbers given to prisoners.
Logarithm (n) the sound of a deep sleeper snoring.
Prehensile (adj) refers to a virgin rooster.
Capstan (n) where one hangs his head ware.
Culpability (n) the knowledge of an "I Spy" trivia buff.
Persuasion (n) the rocking back and forth of your
pocketbook while walking quickly.
Granular (n) Nana’s yearly checkup.
Popsicle (n) the motorbike a middle aged man purchases.
Carbuncle (n) your dad’s brother who eats too many sweets.
Continental Shelf (n) the gut you come home with after
a European vacation.
Quintessential (n) diapers for five.
Geranium (n) the top of a very old person’s head.
Syllogism (n) clown sperm.
Babylon (v) talking too much.
Parable (adj) doing very badly as a duo.
Portobello (n) the yell you let out when locked inside a
temporary urinal.
Cotillion (n) someone who has way too many winter jackets.
Palpable (adj) open to new friendships.
Pachyderm (n) the facial products one takes on vacation.
Catastrophe (n) prize for the feline with the nicest butt.
Propulsive (adj) getting far too excited about major league games.
Expedition (n) when divorced wife makes you pay for foot manicures.
Jurassic (n) a very old foot stool.
Punctual (n) a sassy but intelligent street kid.
Subluxated (adj) when a u-boat is well lit.
Reprehensible (adj) when your congressman is easy to contact.
Edibility (n) the knowledge of British history from 1901 to 1910.
Astronaut (n) a "Jetsons" episode in which the dog doesn’t appear.
Perdition (v) talking back to a cat.
Quiche (n) what a drunk can’t find to get into his house.
Cucumber (n) a guy who brings his own pool stick to the hall.
Pediatric (n) one who makes a big show about having to go
to the bathroom.
Inopportune (adj) knowing the words but not the melodies to arias.
Skiffle (n) an argument on the slopes.
Cantankerous (adj) one who insists on storing extra gas in the trunk.
Botulism (n) an artificial intelligence pun.
Despair (n) what tree uvva kind beats.
Inspiration (n) the sweat you can feel inside your shirt.
Manifestation (n) outbreak of bed bugs.
Acrid (n) pimple medication
Accordion (n) one who settles a dispute.
Toxicity (n) an area where many people have had cosmetic injections.
Carillons (n) the people who sing a seemingly endless version of "Noel"
outside your house at Christmas time.
Introversion (n) making things up about yourself when meeting new people.
Telekinetic (adj) a dad who won’t change the t.v. channel when family visit.
Copulation (n) one who insists he’s related to Francis Ford Coppola.
by Rick Young | Aug 17, 2017 | Poem
I’m looking for some glue,
but all the tubes are empty.
In the kitchen, aerosol cans
hiss and try to tempt me.
I’ve stolen vodka from next door.
I’ve smoked a pipe of stems.
I feel like meaning’s matador.
I need some M&M’s.
If I were in Ecuador,
I could just eat some plants.
I’ve even heard there are some
hallucinogenic ants.
I’ll eat lead paint,
I’ll swail, I’ll faint.
I’m looking for a noose.
But now my stomach hurts
and I’m afraid my bowel’s loose.
by Rick Young | Aug 16, 2017 | Poem
Jack and Jill went out for supper at their favorite diner.
Jill was wearing her best dress and couldn’t look much finer.
Jack drank two large Bloody Marys along with his meal.
But Jill abstained; she didn’t like the way booze made her feel.
With her food gone, Jill slid across the booth into his lap.
Jack leaned in for expected kiss, instead received a slap.
"You didn’t eat your peas," she said. It sounded like a scold.
So Jack obliged and cleaned his plate, although the peas were cold.
When they got home, Jill crossed the room, arms open for a hug.
But Jack burped loudly, said, "Oh shit," and threw up on the rug.
And there it sat, a Christmas-looking pile of green and red.
What both hoped was a pleasant night went right downhill instead.
"I’ll fetch a pail of water so that you can clean that mess.
I’d help you out but I don’t want to get it on my dress."
As Jack bent sadly to his task, he heard her hallway yell:
"I’ll be back in the morning. I can’t sleep here with that smell."
Jack thought, "My life’s a living hell," and something in him died.
Next morn, Jill found him dead in bed, apparent suicide.
