There once was a short poet from Philly, /
who went by the name of Big Willy. /
In his verse he would curse, /
get bawdy or worse /
spewing forth his magnum opus willy-nilly.
There once was a short poet from Philly, /
who went by the name of Big Willy. /
In his verse he would curse, /
get bawdy or worse /
spewing forth his magnum opus willy-nilly.
Filed under 2018, Monday morning writing joke, poetry by author
There once was writer from Nepal, /
whose writing exceeded them all. /
His output was prodigious, /
some even turgid-ous, /
and all on the men’s room stall.
Filed under 2018, Monday morning writing joke, poetry by author
There once was a writer from Murmansk /
Who thought he’d give erotica a chance. /
So he wrote about a gnome /
Who roamed far from home /
Adventuring with his three-legged stance.
Filed under 2018, Monday morning writing joke, poetry by author
There once was a man so wise /
he read a book on disguise. /
And to this very day /
when he wants to slip away /
glasses and a mustache he applies. /
Filed under 2018, Monday morning writing joke, poetry by author
There once was writer of acknowledgements /
Who was in a pickle over compliments. /
To make them clear and sincere /
And not sound in arrears /
Or as if she were paying emoluments.
Filed under 2018, Monday morning writing joke, poetry by author

There once was a purveyor of F-bombs /
Who dropped them like words of a psalm. /
One day on a streak /
He went well passed his peak /
Now his voice squeaks with lavender charm.
There once was man of subtle fun /
Who tried to make puns on the run /
But his display of verbal wit /
Didn’t go over for shit /
And left people mindless minus one.
Filed under 2018, Monday morning writing joke, poetry by author
There once was a writer off for college /
All in the pursuit of higher knowledge. /
The four years they say /
Only got in the way /
And caused a great deal of haulage.
Filed under 2018, joke by author, Monday morning writing joke
There once was a author from Brisbane /
who thought a writer from Lisbon /
tortured language in a way /
that was “an assault and pepper spray” /
a syntax attack, if not misprision.
Filed under 2018, Monday morning writing joke, poetry by author
A writer and a genie were trapped in a stuck elevator.
Writer: “Can you get us out of this?”
Genie: “Is that your wish?”
Writer, after thinking about: “Maybe we’ll wait.”
They wait two hours. Then three. Then six. Then….
Finally the writer said: “I wish for everybody in this building to have a wish.”
The genie wasn’t sure what he was getting at by that wish, but there was nothing in the rules against wishing everybody in the building have a wish, so he granted it.
The elevator doors immediately opened. But before the writer could step out, the elevator doors slammed shut and the elevator plunged downward, then upward, then crashed through the building and when it finally stopped the elevator doors opened on hell. The flames shot into the elevator, growing larger, brighter, and hotter.
Shaken by the experience, the writer sputtered: “I wish I had never made my wish.”
The slammed shut. The fire was gone, and the elevator was exactly where it had been when the wishing first started.
Eventually the doors were opened and as the writer was helped out, somebody asked him how he had managed to survive over nine hours in such a small space with nothing to do.
The writer smiled: “I’m a writer. Many days I spend my time in a small space where nothing seems to happen. Usually my imagination fills in the gaps. This was more or less a typical day for me.”
Filed under 2018, joke by author, Monday morning writing joke