Christmas At The Big-K
At Christmas she went to K Mart
Which wasn’t very smart.
She got in the way
Of a mob that day
And was floored by a shopping cart.
Shopping sucks at Christmas time
Even at the five and dime.
Try shopping on line
And you will be fine
And you won’t be the victim of a crime
Or what’s more you won’t miss your Miller time.
poem by George Hunter
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Gone Fishin
When good ole spring comes rollin’ round
And the trout are in the brook,
A longing comes over me with a bound
To cast my feathered hook.
Then I get all my tackle out
My rods and reels and roundabouts
To go fishing for those trout
That I’ve read so much about.
There’s monsters here the circulars say
But every cursed day
That I go fishing out that way
Those monsters all go in to stay.
I never saw the sun once
During all my stay
But I’ll go home and tell everyone
‘Bout the big ones that got away.
poem by George Hunter
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New Mattress
I was having trouble sleeping the other day.
Couldn't go to sleep when I hit the hay.
So I went to the store and bought a brand new sack
Hoping to relieve the pain in my back.
I was ready for bed but there on the table
Lay a note in red on the big warning label.
‘This mattress is so wonderful you may be forsaken
Once you try it out you may never awaken.'
Wow! , That warning put my brain in a stew
So I stayed awake for hours wondering just what to do.
I figured I shouldn't believe everything that I've read
So I retired that night in my brand new bed.
I ignored that warning and I woke up dead!
poem by George Hunter
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Dumb Blonde - Smart Blonde
There was a dumb blonde named Lorraine
Who stood too close to a train.
—It went by so fast
—It tore off her ass
And now she ain't got no brain!
There was a smart blonde named Ruth
Who said, 'By God, it's the truth.
—Everyone makes fun
—'Cause my hair's like the sun
And they all think I'm dumb, for sooth.
But I'm really very smart
I just like to play the part.
—I pretend to be slow
—And fool them, you know
And I get what I want, it's an art.
Men don't like to be aware
That their girlfriends have brains up there
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poem by George Hunter
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Little Dog Taz
Our little dog is called Taz
A dog that we like to raz.
....For being so small
....Almost not there at all.
She’s the only small dog that we haz.
Chihuahua and terrier, to boot
So what, she’s still very cute.
....She can’t stay in any more
... ‘Cause she poops on the floor
And seems not to give a hoot.
She doesn’t mean to be bad
She the most nervous dog that we’ve had
....Found in a dumpster by Rachel one day
....Seems like someone just threw her away.
So we try not to be too mad.
Every night when it’s time to eat
I give her a special treat
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poem by George Hunter
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Starlight In Your Eyes
Some lyricist once wrote
“I want to melt the
Starlight in your eyes.”
I wish I could think up
A romantic phrase like that
Instead of trite lines
That seem so pat.
I try to write
In my desperation
Guess I need to fall in love again
To receive an inspiration.
Fall in love—
That’s a good explanation
For man’s
Ubiquitous intoxication.
With that
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poem by George Hunter
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Elegy To A Chicken
Here today and gone tomorrow
In this world of strife and sorrow.
Went out to check on the chickens today
To bring in the eggs that they did lay.
Gathered them up, then saw by their nest
A large black hen taking a rest.
She didn’t move so I poked with a stick
Dead as a doornail, stiff as a brick.
Got me a shovel and a big plastic bag
Scooped her up and tried not to gag.
Took it out back, put in one of the bins
Life’s a cruel game that nobody wins.
If people go to heaven then chickens can too
And with that kind thought I drank me a brew.
Here’s to you chicken, you’re off to a better place
Where you don’t have to put up
With the human race.
For it’s a sad thing to have anything die
So let’s all shed a tear
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poem by George Hunter
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001-Traveling Cat
Pussy cat, pussy cat, why do you sing?
‘Cause I've been to London to visit the King.
Pussy cat, pussy cat, what did you hence?
I frightened a bulldog over the fence.
And to tell the truth, I think I'll go
To Paris to dine on some escargot.
Then to Rome I'll take a trip
To eat some fresh Italian cat nip.
Maybe to Russia to slurp some borsch
Made from beets and the hooves of a Cossack horse.
Then I'll try not to be an American menace
And take a gondola ride on the canals of Venice.
I think next I'll take my vacation
And go and visit that Indian nation.
Those sexy statues can't be beat
When it comes to putting a cat in heat.
But enough of that, before my feet get gluey,
Off to China for some pork chop suey.
But they didn't serve it there, it's an American dish,
So I settled for a plate of Hong Kong fish.
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poem by George Hunter
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Southside Chicago Blues
Stumbled out of bed this mornin'
Don't know where I been.
Don't know what the haps last night
But it must have been a sin.
‘Cause today I got the lowdown blues,
The Southside Chicago mind-numbin' blues
I know my baby left me
That much I will confess.
Said I was a no-good worthless bum
And my life was in a mess.
Gave me the sorrowful blues,
The Southside Chicago pate-scramblin' blues.
Got out the frying pan
Made me some eggs and ham.
What a miserable life you lead
When you're livin' on the lam.
It's enough to give an old ex-con the lowlife blues
The Southside Chicago brain-dead blues.
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poem by George Hunter
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Coed's Counselor
When I was about to graduate
I knew it was time to choose my fate,
So I went to the counselor down the hall,
A good looking man, and very tall.
At present I had but little conception
Of what to do or what direction.
He greeted me with a great big smile
As willing to go that extra mile.
And point me in the right direction
To help me make my life perfection.
He took one look at my bod, boobs, and hips,
And the words came slyly over his lips
“Roses are red and violets are blue,
I know just the right profession for you.”
You look like a goddess standing there
With your lucious lips and your golden hair.
With everything in just the right place,
You’ll send the rich Johns into outer space.
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poem by George Hunter
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