World Health Organization to Your Sweet Tooth: “Drop Dead!”

Obama let loose with a twenty dollar bill!

As if my sweet tooth weren’t maligned enough by public polls,

Now the people down at WHO want me to shun sweet rolls!

They recommend I cut back on the processed foods I eat,

And concentrate on lemons or a brace of chicken feet.

 

A mere six teaspoons ev’ry day of sugar, they advise,

Would give my pearly whites a break and obesity revise.

I gave up my martinis and decided not to smoke,

And now they want me to abandon comfort foods like Coke.

 

The writing on the wall is plain for ev’ryone to see;

Smoking pot is legalized but cake’s a felony.

Prohibition will return; this time the Feds will seize

Ev’ry snickerdoodle and fresh honey from the bees!

based on a story in the Washington Post

 

Vermont is for Potheads!

monoman

(Inspired by an article by Evan Halper.)

The Green Mountain State is considering weed

As a revenue source that is not chicken feed.

Tourists will flock to the maple leaf lands

To smoke up a storm in well-healed stoner bands.

 

An East coast Golconda within acrid cloud,

Vermont is proposing to stay ever-plowed.

Forget maple syrup or white clapboard churches,

To hell with the red-breasted nuthatch that perches —

 

Pander to those with depraved appetites;

The bong will propel you to dizzying heights.

And when all your children are languid with pot,

Remember who pushed for this drugged Camelot!

 

Cooking with Cannabis.

slowburn

You can cook delicious food, without a chef named Wolfgang,

If you use a steady hand and put in lots of good bhang.

Now that states are legalizing pot in all its forms,

It is being eaten from McMansions to school dorms.

 

You can put it in a pie or in a cake or in soufflé;

Serve it as the main course or a freaky canapé.

Instead of wine with dinner or a beer before your lunch,

Stir a little loco weed into a bowl of punch.

 

The taste may be repulsive, reminiscent of raw lye,

But what is that to connoisseurs intent on getting high?

And I am making odds with all those tight Las Vegas bookies

That cannabis will soon appear in all our Girl Scout Cookies!

 

Whither the Weather?

the enervating frost
the enervating frost

Mark Twain has said the weather, as a conversation topic,

Is spoken of by ev’ryone, from polar to the tropic.

But nothing’s ever done about the changing quality

Of the outcomes of our world-wide meteorology.

Is winter getting colder, and is summer drying out?

Will spring still bring us budding trees and the tender sprout?

And how about the autumn, will the harvest moon still beam

Or will the nights grow darker than a shaft in a coal seam?

Do we blame the carbon footprint or the car exhaust

For the smoggy vapors and the enervating frost?

Did landing on the Moon change all the tides and send the waves

Roaring up in fury to put mermaids to their graves?

The honey bees have disappeared and frogs are in decline;

Must we blame the products of the oilfield and coal mine?

Does China make the weather, with her wanton dragon fumes?

And what of Colorado, where now marijuana blooms?

Is the great Jehovah sending hurricanes and rot

Just because in Denver they now smoke a little pot?

Mother Nature seems possessed of contrary agendas,

Flooding out the desert and then freezing haciendas.

The weather, it is changing, but to what, and why, and when,

Is something even scientists still find beyond their ken.

hotter than a Texas pistol
hotter than a Texas pistol