My poems of late are serious and not the least bit humorous.
Laughter is a lot more fun than tears.
I’ll try to strike another tone that might tickle your funny bone.
Let’s see if I’m able to switch gears.
I saw a man walk down the street. I swear he had two right feet.
He tried to sell me two left shoes.
“I have two right feet,” he explained. “One right is wrong,” he complained.
“I’ll make you a deal you can’t refuse.”
I looked at him in disbelief. I didn’t want to cause him grief
But what would I do with two left shoes?
My feet never cause me strife. One is left and one is right.
Yet I never pass up a good deal.
I paid him pennies on the dollar. Then I found one left was smaller.
It made my little piggy squeal.
I saw a man walk down the street and asked if he had two left feet.
He said, “No!” And I chose not to persist.
My left food hurt like heck on earth but I sure got my money’s worth.
And so did my podiatrist.