God Only Nose

A nose is a nose is a nose.
Wouldn't one by any other name smell
just as well?
What the hell.
Call it a hogglebottom
and it still smells the sweets.
Call it a snot locker,
still a nose-shaped hunk o' meat
stapled to your face right where God intended.
Just think if your cheeks were where your face ended!
How strange! How ugly! How inconvenient! How loathe!
Why, if you had to sneeze then you'd damn near explode!
And with no nose there to handle the chore
of absorbing the impact of a sliding glass door,
with no nose you'd smack your eyeballs right on the glass,
and with a squeegeeing sound you'd fall right on your ass.
I won't have it! I don't want it! I'll keep my nose please!
For blowing! And scratching! And sticking in trees!
I won't blow my eyes, that'd be unsatisfying
and if I said I knew how, you would know I was lying.
Look at Cher! Look at Jacko! No nose makes you evil!
At least, with it half gone, you look like a huge weevil.
You can follow your nose on to wondrous places
and without it to cut off, how would we spite our faces?
So say no to nose jobs, say yes to those jobs
that honor your nose like a rose, and ignore those mobs
of humorless, noseless, sick shallow slobs
who's faces are featureless, doughy white blobs
who shout "Cut it off, hack it off, give it to charity!"
Say "Brother, please quit now and cease your hilarity.
A nose is a wonderful, beautiful gem
that some say relates to the size of your… ahem.
So treasure it, unless you are sickly with sniffles and cough,
then break out the band saw and please cut mine off!"

Marmalade and Lace
Marmalade and lace, I step on your face as you draw back your bow. Where's the arrow? I don't know. These lovers' games without names… or at least maybe they should be. "Drunken Pump" robs my dignity, couldn't we call it "Double... (8/19/02)

My New Lifestyle
Monday, August 5, 2002 If I could ever be as free as a tree, I'd pee only Brie. My neighbors would see the beauty of me. I'd sing like a duck and have all the good luck. I'd dance for a buck and sleep in a truck I bought for a buck ... (8/5/02)

State of the Union Jack
Random parables are wearable surf sluts speak of Sarin gas like a bubble from Hitler's ass America's flying at half-mast Conspirators eat beer and s'mores while Dutch elves poison naked bears nobody cares what the emperor wears as long... (7/22/02)