President Nixon, A Poem By Quintus A sandy grab A meaty slab A greasy shine A squealing whine. A mother's smile. A sunken isle. A flock of ants. A mailman's pants. Love, Nixon. The galactic boot The owl's hoot The teacup's sense The taste of men The frilly dress The spilly mess The chicken's knees The fascist "please". Love, Nixon. My bedtime jump My whale hump My kitten tooth My telephone booth My window shades My razor blades My bruising scarlet My woven starlet. Love, Nixon.
Floss Mummy, A Poem By Quintus A long and manly time ago Three archeologists in boat did row They came across an ancient tomb And found within a dusty room Sarcophagi With beard (and eye) They looked upon these glorious shapes And snacked upon some pitted dates When suddenly Arose A beast FLOSS MUMMY.
The Seahorse, A Poem By Quintus Hey man What is your deal I don't have time for your president Or any of that frame But dude What I do have time for It isn't a pine cone No It isn't orange It's a seahorse A very suggestive one Because dude I have the money So don't hate Apathy for all of my tiny children Except Robert Because he attacked me with another child.
Eyebrows For Religion, A Poem By Quintus When I awoke on blazing day I slipped into My bird to pray Jerome could see the voice so sweet As tasty as a boiled meat Two cups bent over, gripping tires A circuit box has several wires While moaningly I juggled there Birds' eastern gifts adorned my bear My ears went down with blessed curfew Nothing rhymes with curfew.
Mincemeat About, A Poem By Quintus Mincemeat about It's like sauerkraut Their melancholy wailing Is sent using mailing I sit on a stump The varnish is grump A dog with no legs Is still better than One Direction.
Dogs, A Haiku By Quintus Dogs can be stupid When they get in the mower Slice! Slice! Slice! Slice! Slice!
Thread, A Poem By Quintus Hey girl You wanna come down to this thread? It's full of poems And sometimes people complain Sounds hot, right? We can peel the orange We can hang with the seahorse And eat papayas With president Nixon. Girl It'll be fun Just you and me Being attacked by Robert.
Killing, A Poem By Quintus Get ready I'm about to start killing Killing people Killing dogs Killing cats Killing trees Killing soybeans And when I'm done killing I'll take a bath And cry.
A haiku by me, You have just been farmed, All your allies have been stripped, Where did your gold go?