The Crazy Old Scientist Man

There once was a crazy old scientist man
Who would creat a new use for the can
He’d seen cans of milk and cans of creamed corn
Can’s of werid milk for coffee each morn

Cans full of spit from skull chewing spitters
Who live in small trailers and marry their sisters
Cans full of sausage and canned candied yams
Pigs feet and Green Beans, coca and spam

“There is already everything under the sky
Put in cans big and small from tuna to pie
I need something different Something Brand new
Chili? No. Bacon? No. How bout some poo

Poo in a can quite a revelation
But there’s still one thing, one small complication
How will he get the poo into the can
Should he poop in a baggy or poop in his hand?

Should I poop in a small poo scooping shovel
Or Poop in a tall twisty turny type tunnel
Oh what about poopin directly right in
To the cans made of pure recyclable tin

So the man sat and pooped for seven years straight
Sitting on cans from morning till late
Then he had finished his homemade canned poo
In all shapes and colors from fusa to blue

With all the poo canned he now went to the store
All pooped from pooping and practically poor
He said to the man “Here take my poo buy it”
“Heck why not, canned poo? I might try it”

So he stacked up the poo on the shef’s top
Some six years old and some piping hot
But no one expected to sell all the poo
Because the cans numbered one millioin and two

The cans never sold no more than a little
Not even the ones made with pure peanut brittle
But that inventor type scientist man
Went on to invent what we now call the can.

Pete the One Legged Pigeon

In an old burned out building on Twenty Ninth Street
Lives a one legged pigeon whose friends call him Pete
He flies faster than any other pigeon known to man
Trouble only comes when he tries to land
Pete has grown mean over the past several years
Being the one-legged butt of the jokes of his peers
His heart has hardened up like a grumpy old man
But on Twenty Ninth Street one legged Pete still stands.
He’s a little slanted left in his cockeyed stance
Wearing his one legged pair of pink pigeon pants
As the others fly by yelling mean obscenities
Like “Hey one legged ninja where’s your other knee”

To these comments Pete will always reply
“I may have one leg but I can certainly fly
Better than you or your bald headed granny
Bring it on two legs I’ll kick your little fanny”
But no one ever races him they just point and they laugh
At his unsightly one-legged pink panted aircraft
He’s gone completely untested in his speed flying glory
High on Twenty Ninth Street on the twenty ninth story

One night there was trouble in twenty ninth street land
Up on to the roof came a flock of toucans
Now the toucan is an evil bird, strong and awfully mean
They kidnapped all the babies and robbed their houses clean
With the cover of darkness and pirate like intent
They sacked and they pillaged and then off they went
Over the hills into the night without a trace
And no one could keep their insane toucan pace.

The toucans were too mean too strong and too fast
For the average pigeon to catch, then at last
They came back to Pete and desperately begged
“Please try and catch them and find where they’ve led
Our children, our money, our whole pigeon lives”
Said a motherly pigeon with tears in her eyes.
“Why should I help you you’ve been so mean to me?
I don’t care if your kids die” He said to she

“All you do is persecute my pants and single leg
Until you need a speedy pigeon then you come and beg
But I will save your children from those evil farts
If you promise to love me for what’s inside my heart”
So Pete speed off to kick some toucan can
Caught them and killed them and used their feathers for a fan.
He returned all the babies back to street twenty nine
Where they never made fun of Pete for all time

Nova Scotia

If there is one place I would want to live
I think it wouldn’t be Nova Scotia.
I have never been to Nova Scotia,
But I’m willing to bet it’s not in my top five.

If I was really given just one place I could live
I probably would pick some place other than Nova Scotia.
Not that there is anything wrong with Nova Scotia,
I’m just saying it’s not my own personal dream destination.

I do however like the words Nova Scotia.
Soctia itself has a lot of potential
But toss Nova in there and I just can’t get it out of my head.
Nova Scotia, Nova Scotia, Nova Scotia, Nova Scotia.

If you happen to live in Nova Scotia
Or if you consider the Nova Scotia one of
If not your number one all time fantasy place to live
Please don’t let me put a damper on your dream.

All I’m trying to say is that if it wasn’t for
The way the word Scotia sounds in my head
I would have never even have thought of Nova Scotia
When I was making up my list of places to live if I win the lottery.

No offense. Seriously this is just one man’s opinion.
Along with the unspoken agreement of my readers.
99% of that readership being me when I re-read this out loud.
To laugh at the word Scotia. . . . Scotia, Scotia,, Scotia.

To tell you the truth I’m not even sure where Nova Scotia actually is
I’m pretty sure it’s not Africa, or Asia, or South America.
Nova Scotia just doesn’t seem like it would fit in with those exotic places
If I was making a map I would put it in Canada.

The bottom line is I will probably never live in anyone’s dream place
I’m not rich, or pretty enough to marry rich
But if I end up by some drunken chance of fate in Nova Scotia,
I will definitely tell everyone about my visit there just so I can say

Nova Scotia

My Guru’s Name is Matt

He sits and eats tofu my guru he does,
Because it makes him feel one with the dirt.

He sits and eats mush all hushed like a mute
Meditating on the Zen Mother Earth.

Also a something my Guru does do
Is attend the Zoo on each Tuesday.

“Tuesday’s” He says “Are the best of all Zoo days,
Because that is the animal Sabbath.”

“Sabbath?” I whisper “Are the animals Jews?”
“Yes Indeedy doo”Says my Guru

So I sat to do voodoo each day with my Guru
Utill one day He says unto me.

“Who do they say, that you say, that I am
When they see you sitting with me?”

“Well one says Elijah” says I toughtfully
“Perhaps John the Baptist . . .”

“Stop! Stop! My name Is Matt”
“I knew that.”

My Doggie

I once had a doggie without any eyes
One lip three legs and a wheel
He had no fur, half a tail tween his thighs
But he had that puppy appeal

He couldn’t play fetch and he couldn’t play dead
But he played heck of a chirstoper reeve
He did the whole thing with the immovable head
And had tubes to eat pee and breath

He’d perk up his ear whenever I came home
From work or from getting his pills
He’d take his green tounge and lap up the foam
Spilling forth from his experminteal gills

His empty eye sockets would look up at me
And say I am loyal to you
Even if I can’t lift my legs to pee
Or speak like other dogs do

So I loved him in spite of his missing fourth rib
In spite of his lack of a nose
We cuddled at night next to the crib
Where he slept as his rectal skin glowed

He wasn't a freak no more than you are
Right down to his undersized head
He was special and different, He was hit by a car
And now my Doggie is Dead

Little Miss Bighead

Little Miss Bighead was blessed with a noggin
The size of a ripe red and green watermelon
It sat on her shoulders forty six inches wide
Three feet chin to crown and four side to side

One day she decided to go to the store
And buy a new hat. She rode her donkey Eyore
They plowed round the corner and forward they trekked
She on her donkey her head on her neck

“Nay” said Eyore “Your head is quite fat
I can’t seem to walk cuz your breaking my back
“Giddy up Giddy up forget my head size
I need a hat so I will not compromise

So Eyore pressed on with Little Miss head
But when they reached the hat store the donkey dropped dead.
“Oh well” thought miss bighead “I’m in need of a hat”
Who has a pet donkey? I’ll buy me a cat”

Into the store she squeezed her head proud
Ignoring the sign “No Big Heads Allowed”
“I need your best beanie, bonnet or cap
Right now right away get to it snap snap”

The man at the counter said with a snout
“We don’t have your size you big headed toot”
“I just want a hat” She said in defiance
“But your head is as big as a Kitchen appliance.

How do you expect me to find you a beanie?”
“Just look in the back for something your meanie”
“I’ll do nothing like that for a big head like you.
Out of my store take your dead donkey too.

Now little miss bighead was a perfect young lass
And new it was wrong to misuse her heads mass
But as the comments grew meaner and meaner
She reared back and head butted that small headed wiener

She picked up a hat that was fit for a queen
And took one last look at the comatose fiend
She laughed as her cranium pressed through the door
With her hat set on top of her head three by four

I’m pretty sure I would drink my own pee

I’m pretty sure I would drink my own pee
Not recreationally
Or on a dare
But if I was stranded on a deserted island
And there are no fresh water streams
Or salt water distillers
And I was thirsty enough
I would drink pee
My own pee
Maybe my wife’s pee
But that is it.
They say you can drink it
Up to three times in a row
Before you die
But I’m pretty sure that if I drank pee three times
I would go for four
I’m on a deserted island
I’m probably delusional
Why not defy the “they” of conventional wisdom
And drink pee
Only if you have too

The Chicken Bush

I bought a chicken bush from a sad lady
At the farmers market by my dad’s house
She had a mole on her ear that looked like an earring
But it wasn’t it was a mole
I informed her that chickens grow in eggs
And not on bushes
I couldn’t stop staring at her ear mole though
So I bought it anyway.

I took my chicken bush home through this alley
Between two abandoned warehouses
A lot of bad stuff happens there
But I like the way alleys make me feel
This old man with a glass eye
Asked me why I had a bush
I told him that it grew chickens
He laughed and winked his glass eye at me.

My Dad was watching one of those
Knock off CSI shows on DVD when I got home
I tried to tell him about the sad lady’s mole
But he kept saying
“In a minute son, in a minute”
And sometimes his minutes can take awhile
So I decided to keep the chicken bush a secret.
I went upstairs

I put my secret in the corner
By my window so it could get some sun
I went to the bathroom
And filled my toothbrush cup with water
Because plants need water.
I decided that even if it didn’t grow any chickens
It would be nice to have a bush
I’ve heard shrubbery is good for the soul

For some reason I just kept thinking
About the sad mole lady’s ear
It was like there was a digital picture of it in my brain
And I kept hitting the magnifying glass with the plus sign
Zooming in until the screen was a big brown blob.
When I got back I saw something on the bush
It was small and pink like a baby mouse
But it was a chicken

I made a shocked face
Like the bad guy always makes on Scooby Doo
Right after they take off his mask.
It was getting bigger fast.
It was hanging from the branch
By that red part on its head that looks like a glove
He looked up at me and said
“You gonna give me a drink or what”

I poured my toothbrush cup into the dirt
Around the bottom of the bush
“I got a mouth” said the rude and thirsty chicken
“You think just cuz I grew on a bush I drink through
This red thing on my head that looks like a glove?
I wasn’t sure if he could read minds
Or if that’s really what he really called it.
So I got him another drink and asked him his name.

He said that it was TJ
And that it didn’t stand for anything it was just TJ
Because his mom was illiterate
I couldn’t figure out how he had a mom
And grew out of a bush
So I asked TJ if the sad lady
From the farmers market was his mom
But he acted like he didn’t want to talk about it

“I’m a Genie” said TJ the chicken bush genie
“And I’m gonna grant you one wish”
I was trying to remember
If I had rubbed the bush
When he told me to “Get a move on”
I had never had any wishes before
But I had seen Aladdin
So I knew all the rules

I thought about wishing for an Xbox 360
But I didn’t because I knew
My Mom and Dad would fight
About who would get to buy me one for Christmas
I would have wished for money or power
But it seems like that’s what the bad guys always do
And then they turn into a red snake
And die or something

Then all of the sudden my dad
Started banging on the door
Like the CSI detective with a drinking problem
“What’s going on in there son?”
TJ looked at me and I looked at the door
I needed a wish and fast
But the only thing I could think of was
That lady with the mole

“I wish that the sad lady from the farmers market
With the mole on her ear
That looks like an earring
But is really a mole
Would have her mole removed
So she won’t get ear cancer
And so that people won’t stare at her
And she can be happy”

TJ looked up at me and I could see
Little tears welling up
In his chicken eyes
He said “It shall be done”
Waved his wings and he disappeared
Just then my dad broke the doorknob
Falling into my room and landing
On my Lego Pirate Ship

“We will have no secrets in this house”
He said as he pulled the pirate flag
Out of the side of his pants
I told him that I bought a plant and that was all
He looked at my bush in the corner
And was relieved that it wasn’t Marijuana
He went back downstairs
To watch other people solve mysteries.

I kept the bush but it never grew any more chickens
I went to the farmer’s market every Saturday
When I was at my dad’s house
For the next couple of month’s
But I never saw TJ or the mole lady again
Every week I would walk home though the alley
And the old man with glass eye
Would laugh And wink it at me.

Almost Rich

On Monday
I won the lottery.
Called every one I knew
Told them I was rich.
Five other people
Won my same lottery
But I didn’t care I still won.

On Tuesday
I resigned from Wendy's.
I informed them that my life
Had taken a unexpected turn
Toward the aristocratic,
And I could no longer fulfill my duties
As assistant fry cook
In charge of spicy chicken
And customer relations.

On Wednesday
I went out to the bar.
They all knew I was rich and
So I bought a round
Or two
Or three
I can’t remember.

On Thursday
My Girlfriend kicked me out
Of her apartment
Because I quit my job at Wendy’s.
She called me a failure
So I didn’t tell her that I was rich now.
I stole her remote control
And decided to become a bum.

On Friday
I found a cardboard box
And decided that if I was going to be a bum
I was going to be a successful bum.
The kind with notoriety.
All the good bums I could think of
Lived next to Liquor stores.
So that’s where I put my box.

On Saturday
I tried my best at bumming
I rattled my can just right.
But I got too close to a bag lady.
I told her she didn’t know who
She was messing with
That I was rich.
She just hit me with her trash bag of cans
And told me to find a new corner.

On Sunday
I fell asleep outside this church.
The preacher man seemed to think
Jesus could help.
So I told him my secret.
That I was a rich man
And only bumming to prove to my girlfriend
That I wasn’t a failure.
He laughed and told me
Jesus was right about one thing
Being a rich man is hard.

The Grass is Greener with Jésus

The grass is greener on the other side
Because they have a better gardener.
He is a Mexican from the Yucatan Peninsula.
His name is Jésus.
Jésus is the direct descendent of a conquistador
He says that’s why he grows such nice grass.

My grass is pretty good
Not like the other side
But I don’t have a gardener
I don’t really need good grass though,
Because Jésus says
I can come over and have a picnic any time,
As long as the other side people aren’t home
What else is green grass good for except picnics?

Pirate Love

I met a pirate at Price Chopper
He had an eye patch
And smelled like feet.
Just my type
I pushed my cart up to his.
Smiled Winked
And Asked him if
I could walk the plank.

He hooked a package of bacon
From my cart.
And told me he would gut me like a fish.
Just my type
I touched his metal hand
Strong Cruel
I was in love
With the scallywag

His wooden leg was hand made
And went all the way
Up to his pirate hip
Just my type
I kissed his check
Dirty Diseased
He spit on the floor
Next to my high heal shoe.

Rrrrr He said
Like a school boy
With a speech impediment
Just my type
I’m married to the sea He said
Vast Rough
No woman could ever
Have my heart

The sea dog sauntered
Out of the frozen foods section
And out of my life
Just my luck
But that’s what pirates do
Sac Pilage
And turn down fast women
At Price Chopper