Ay, There’s The Rub

Oh I’m the genie of the lamp,

And you have set me free. 

I’ll sing a song, stretch out my cramp,

And grant you wishes three. 

I won’t sit on the sidelines,

I’ll get straight to work for you. 

But first, some rules, some guidelines,

There’s some things that I can’t do. 

I can’t make people fall in love,

I can’t undo the past,

I can’t move planets up above,

I can’t make time go fast.

I cannot bring you riches,

And I will not maim or kill,

I’d rather not soothe itches

Or clean up a diaper spill. 

I don’t do windows, won’t do floors,

I cannot bring World Peace,

I will not help you with your chores,

I won’t co-sign your lease. 

I can’t transport you places,

And I can’t change your appearance,

I can’t affect horse races,

Or find hot new styles on clearance. 

A friend like me, you’ve never had—

No need to quake and cower. 

You want to be a Prince? Too bad. 

That’s just beyond my power. 

But what I do, I do so well

Your mind will come unglued. 

From in the lamp where I do dwell,

I’ll bring you any food!

Whatever you are hungry for,

A meal, a snack, a treat,

Just make a wish or three—no more—

And pretty soon, you’ll eat!

You make your wish and give a nod,

I bring your food out later. 

I’m not a wizard, not a god. 

I’m basically a waiter. 

Closing Argument

“Your honor, the defendant stands accused before the court

Of crimes quite reprehensible. The list is none too short.

Three counts of grand theft auto with a rusty old machete,

Two counts of public lewdness with a plate of cold spaghetti,

Obstructing heavy traffic wearing only a fedora,

Conducting a Bar Mitzvah with a giant gummi Torah,

Misspelling girlfriends’ names on half a dozen big tattoos,

Removing final chapters from a shelf of Nancy Drews,

Kidnapping a koala from a wildlife sanctuary,

Assaulting strangers dressed up as the ‘Random Beat-Down Fairy,’

Providing pure ghost pepper juice to quench his grandma’s thirst,

And thirty-seven separate counts of murder in the first.

Your honor, he must answer for each horrible offense.”

“Agreed. Now do you have a thing to say in your defense?”

The little man inhaled and eyed the jury on their stools,

And then he offered his defense:  “Your honor . . . APRIL FOOLS!”

The Works

Hello?  I’d like a pizza, please,

A deep dish extra large.

And on one half I want the works,

No matter what the charge.

That’s pepperoni, sausage, onions,

Mushrooms, turnip greens,

Sun-dried tomato, pineapple,

Some tiny jelly beans,

Dill pickle slices, candy corn,

Those salty little fishes,

Six chocolate chips, five onion rings,

Four pretzel rods, three wishes,

An eye of newt, some batwing flakes,

Green peppers, bacon bits,

The essence of a dying star,

A glob of cheesy grits,

Blue diamonds, purple horseshoes,

Garlic chicken, clotted cream,

Black olives, gummy peaches,

And a newborn baby’s dream.

So that’s the first half, that’s the works,

And extra napkins, please.

And on the other half?  Let’s see . . .

I guess I’ll go with . . . cheese.

Dream Cheese

I was hungry, just a smidge, 

So I opened up my fridge,

And I pawed through every bottle, jar, and can.

As I feasted both my eyes, 

I was taken by surprise

By a tiny balding six-inch little man!

“I’m the cottage cheese,” he said,

“For, you see, you’re still in bed,

And this dream you’re having sure is very strange.”

Well, a moment then went by,

And this tiny balding guy

Gave a hefty belch and then began to change.

He became a pink banana,

And he sang “Copacabana,”

While he shook his two maracas and he twirled.

Then a flash of light exploded,

The banana growed and growded,

And became the biggest sausage in the world!

As I watched him, still in slumber,

He became a big cucumber,

Then a fully tricked out sixties muscle car.

Then a wiener in a bun,

And before the job was done,

For some reason he became a big cigar.

It was this point in my dreaming

I could feel the subtext screaming

And, I tell you, I began to get annoyed.

Oh I swear, tomorrow night

I will just turn out the light

And I won’t sit up late reading Dr. Freud!