Wait. What?

When he isn't talking your ear off about existentialism, pro-wrestling and the incredibly interesting things that happen in his comparatively mundane life, Dan occasionally writes the poetry he mentions so often. Here it is.

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Junkbox: Bad Poetry Exercise


The wind came fast
Like bullets or Kenyans or men who are nervous

And was tasteless
Like mullets or minions or two-star room service

On a night that was cold
Like an old cold pole
Holding up something important

I squeezed your left hand
Like a grand hand band stand
And promised I'd see you in four months.

-------------------------------------------------

The Moon
The Moon
The Moon, The Moon, The Moon
It reminds me i'm going to be with you soon.

The Night
The Night
The Night, The Night, The Night
I find that it's glowing with twinkling lights.

The Stars
The Stars
The Stars, The Stars, The Stars
In time you'll be showing me your fantastic arse.

This Verse
This Verse
This Verse, This Verse, This Verse
A sublime piece of poem that couldn't get much worse.