One: David West Learns to Share
David West lived across the hall from a nun.
She did not care for his taste in music.
One night she knocked on his door.
"David," she began, politely but sternly,
"could you please turn down the phat beats?
It's after one am, and I'm trying to prepare a lecture on St. Thomas Aquinas."
"Sorry, sister, I was actually just about to go to bed."
"David, you should learn to be more considerate.
Whether it's distributing the rock among your teammates on the court
or stopping to think that maybe your hallmates aren't as into the latest Wu-Tang joint as you are."
"You're right, sister. I'll try to think of others more in the future."
"I hope that you do, David. You will be a lot more successful. Now get some rest."
"Thank you, sister. Good night."
"Good night, David."
***
Two: The appropriate response to unsolicited creative projects from ex-es who have not otherwise attempted to contact you in over six months is to mail back an MRI of your heart turned into a 1,000 piece jigsaw puzzle.
Someone lives in that house
No one knows who he is
But every three days or so
The mailman leaves a package
On the front stoop and leaves
The package is never there very long
Before it is replaced by a different one
Which the mailman picks up the next day
One day I decided
I would find out who lived in that house
I faked sick from school and
I sat by the window all day
I saw the mailman walk up to the house
He left a package on the front stoop
It won't be long now I thought
Actually it took till well after dark
I was getting pretty tired
But then a light came on in the house
I started upright and stared at the front door
I saw a bent old man in a white suit
He slowly and quietly exchanged the package
On the stoop for one in his hand
He turned and softly closed the door
All of a sudden I saw a bright flash
And heard a terrible booming sound
I was blinded for a few moments
But when my vision cleared
The whole house was in flames
I rushed into my parents' room
And told them to call the fire department
No one on our block got any sleep that night
It was nothing but sirens until the next afternoon
I saw my dad talking to the police
I tried to tell the officer I had seen the whole thing
But my dad told me to go back inside
I asked my dad what happened
But he told me that I wouldn't understand
Later that year, we had to do a report in school
About an historical event that happened in our town
I did mine on the day our baseball team moved away
But another kid who never talks much
Did his report about that old house
He said he went to the library
And found an article that said
An explosion near the front door blew the house up
The kid said that when the doctors
Pulled the old man out from under his house
The white suit he was wearing was all torn and dirty
Except in the middle of his chest
There was a heart shaped patch that was totally spotless
***
Three: I didn't break your ass out of jail so you could show up at my door in a Nixon mask! (A series of limericks on Presidents of the 70s and 80s)
A curator of the Smithsonian
Was perusing exhibits Nixonian
She found to be fact
That his favorite snack
Was a right pungent thing called Dick's Onion
Heads of a toy company board
Were looking to profit off Ford:
"Whip Inflation the game
Would turn profits insane
If only the Who were on board!"
A man known to all as "Foul Carter"
Renouned far and wide as a farter
So when President Jim
Paid a visit to him
The townspeople named him a martyr
A legend 'bout President Reagan
Says he didn't know what to cook egg in
Though First Lady Nan
Said "they're cooked in a pan!"
He decided to ask Carl Sagan
