The once was a writer with a bucket,
Who threw his drafts in it, because they “suck it.”
One day a thief came by
And with his bucket she did hie.
Now she has a bestseller. O’ the luck of it.
The once was a writer with a bucket,
Who threw his drafts in it, because they “suck it.”
One day a thief came by
And with his bucket she did hie.
Now she has a bestseller. O’ the luck of it.
There once was a writer from Montana,
Who always ate a morning banana.
Then one day he ran out.
He wailed an ugly shout:
“Writing’s lost is appeal and manna.”
There once was a writer of wars /
Who saw peace as a series of chores. /
When people put their arms away /
He had nothing to say, /
And at parties he was just one of the boors.
Filed under 2021, Monday morning writing joke
There once was a writer from Nantucket/
Who stuffed her writing wish list bucket. /
Crammed with crumpled notes /
Stuffed until it bloats /
Each list a rewrite ending in “F6$k it!”
Filed under 2021, Monday morning writing joke
There once was a writer from downtown, /
Who took his rejection lying around. /
He would open his e-mail /
And read the words: “No Sale.” /
Then say, “No need to get up to get down.”
Filed under 2021, Monday morning writing joke

Sometimes it is easier to find Uranus than your bottom.
Filed under 2021, Monday morning writing joke

Photo from Staunton News Leader, 1936
Poetic justice
You divorced me today,
But you can’t take my words away.
My words are worth
All your penny love on this old earth.
You claim you are owed
For being subjected to my odes.
You’ll receive neither cent nor couplet—
I don’t care if penalties double it.
This divorce has no rhyme nor reason,
So, love, take a haiku for the season.
I have given you my best.
I doubt you can stanza the rest.
David E. Booker
032221
World Poetry Day
James Bond, Jason Bourne, and John Wick walked into a bar.
Two of them fell down, and then they knew they were in the wrong Q.
Filed under 2021, Monday morning writing joke
There once was a writer from the farm
Who thought writing could do no harm.
Then one day while he uttered
Poetry he scribbled near a cow’s udder,
She kicked him because she was not charmed.
• An Oxford comma walks into a bar, where it spends the evening watching the television, getting drunk, and smoking cigars.
• A dangling participle walks into a bar. Enjoying a cocktail and chatting with the bartender, the evening passes pleasantly.
• A bar was walked into by the passive voice.
• An oxymoron walked into a bar, and the silence was deafening.
• Two quotation marks walk into a “bar.”
Filed under 2020, Monday morning writing joke