Stop Being Angry About Everything

The boss man made a dollar

And paid it to the state.

The workers wanted their share.

He told them they’re too late.

They said he was a liar

And a lousy bum.

They set his house on fire

And cut off his thumb.

The boss man made a dollar

And paid it to his staff

They say he was arrested

And all his workers laughed.

The boss man made a dollar

And gave half here half there

Now both sides are angry

And pulling out their hair.

The workers want their dollar

And so does the state

And both sides will holler

Pay up and do not wait.

The boss man earns his money

And then he earns some more

And if he didn’t make that money

His workers wouldn’t have a job.

The government wouldn’t have taxes.

The cities would have no revenue

And the regions would be depressed.

And the workers would be angry

That the bosses took their money

And ran off to somewhere else.

Look, simple rhymes don’t cut it,

And neither does simple logic.

Don’t be an idiot. Think things through,

And stop being angry about everything.

That is my job. You can’t have my job.

The Gods and Coffee

In the beginning Percolation created the brew and the cup,

And the brew was clear and cold.

Blandness filled to the rim of the cup.

And the spatter of Percolation moved

Across the top of the brew.

And Percolation said let there be taste,

And Percolation found it to be rich and full bodied

With hints of smokey dark chocolate

And the smallest note of dried sour cherry.

And Percolation smelled the aroma

And saw that it was rich and inviting.

And Percolation separated the aroma from the brew

And called this drink coffee.

And Percolation created man in his first cup,

Sparking light in his eyes

And Coffee on his breath.

And this was considered heaven.

All mathematical models break down

Beyond this point. And it is impossible

To know what had happened the night before.

An Enigma Wrapped in a High School Kid

Loved comic books

Long before the MCU.

Played Dungeons and Dragons

Back when parents thought that made you a Satanist.

Listened to DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince

And Weird Al when only Nirvana was cool.

My favorite word to describe something I liked

Was ‘intriguing.’

And I played sports.

I also thought that reading and writing

Were the worst tortures in the world

And I knew the indignities of wind sprints until you puke.

What Really Happened Between Dracula and Van Helsing

Stop it, Van Helsing. I have been asleep for the last three hundred years.

I don’t need a steak in my heart. I’ve been good for a very long time.

Look here you, just because I’m evil doesn’t mean I can’t be a good boy.

What? The Outback? Australia? Oh, that kind of steak. Sure. I am hungry.

Look, I know I misjudged you, but we both have our histories to live down.

No, smart ass. I don’t want a Bloody Marry. I do want the steak rare.

Yes. Horseradish and extra garlic. I love that stuff. Garlic knots too.

Oh… Holy water in the hand sanitizer. Always were a prankster.

That’s true. I did bite Jesus. Why? What have they been saying about him?

Literal Literary Hijacking

Help! Help! My characters are misbehaving. They refuse the outline.

I had so many plans, and they’re like, nope. I can’t spank them. They like it.

So neat and tidy, but they need to stick a fork in a damn toaster.

A running blender. Stick my hand in it. Or his hand sounds even better.

I just wanted a simple short story. Their thinking novella or novel.