Siblings

I have a twelve year old brother and a twenty-seven year old sister, I've been trying to write something that would appeal to them both, and I think I finally got it. Here it goes.

Don't you hate it when your video game overheats when you're about to use it in a performance art?

Men with beards are scary, but also sexy.

Paying rent and chocolate bars are alot the same; they both make your stomach hurt a little but provide you with great self satisfaction. Am I right?

Bad action films are awesome and also ironically awesome.

Dinner parties with friends is one of the best ways to spend your time, and by dinner parties I could mean eating boiled hot dogs and drinking milk.

Life is hard, it can crush your spirit, Adam Sandler is funny.

Steven Spielberg

Sombre Reptiles

I often go and admire my friend Danielle Nemet's photos over at Sombre Reptiles.  And so to show those poets they're not so special, I've put together a series of poems to go along with some of Danielle's photos. tomdhenry/Sombre Reptiles mash up!

I was looking at some birds
When I became afire
All I really wanted to do
Was stand and bird admire

The fire it turns out
Was not what I had thought
T'was a sweet guitar riff
But I'm still a little hot






I sing songs to girls all day
I wish they all could look at me this way
They usually just turn to me an say "I don't like music."
Which seems unlikely






The trees are mourning us
They think we're all dead
What they don't know is
We go up the chimney and overhead

If our families saw us like this
They might flip, see
They'd need a few extra hugs
From the hippy






If you wanted one of these two haircuts
You're outta luck - we're closed.
If you want the one in the middle though
Just put a sheet over your head






Sing me a song red man
And it better be good
Because I'm racist against the red
And I'm not referring to the slur about Native Americans
I really like them
I mean people who stand in red lights
I guess what I'm trying to say is
My girlfriend dumped me in a darkroom






It's so late
My lamp wont stay up straight

My pillow is too vertical against the wall
I had to put my magazine down
Just to get a way from it all
And on top of that all
It takes so long
Just to make a phone call.






I remember the days
When we always saw in double
We were too in love
That was the trouble
It looks like we had cool hair
And wore overalls
But I can't really tell
Because I can't remember that particular day






My songs are so wussy
So high and so light
They say it's my own fault
For sitting too far right

A Letter To Sandwich

Dear Sandwich, 

I'm writing to let you know that I think you are a perfectly sufficient meal on your own. I send to you this sentiment in congruence with my belief that it's high time soup stopped riding your coat tails. 

I'm not sure how soup attained it's status in the first place, it's not much more than a hot fruit smoothie made of vegetables. I suppose in today's selfish consumerist society where everyone wants everything all at once, people are enamoured with a food that is both liquid and solid. It is true that if you enjoy inhaling soup steam as well, you are indeed consuming all possible states of matter in one sitting, surely a thrill for those SUV driving capitalist pigs. I assure you I will be eating tuna fish on rye as these yuppies gargle butternut squash along to Feist. 

I was perfectly fine with it staying in the dinner arena.  If larger dinner type meals want soup to open for them, I think that's ok, It's easily put in it's place. Dinner is a silly meal anyway, used for trivial matters such as sharing thoughts with your family, etc... In the serious world of lunch; however, soup is going for equal billing. It wants to be there as important business deals are pondered over, and exes subtly infer their lives are better than one another. 

Something must be done I say, and so I present to you the following measures I will be taking:

1. Draw Parallel with puke - Next time I'm out on a Saturday night and my friend points out a small puddle of throw - up, I'll turn to him/her* shrug and say, "Or maybe it's soup." 

2. Play with temperatures part 1 - When spotting soup eaters at my favourite lunch spot, I will "accidentally" knock their soup in to their lap, scalding them. If they are reasonable, they'll realize the high risk that comes with eating soup. If they are less reasonable, the sight of soup will now act as a sort of Pavlovian response mechanism for not eating soup. 

Note: Should they attempt to fight me, I will throw soup in their face, blinding them while also ridding the world of one more bowl or cup (whichever is at the ready).

3. Play with temperatures part 2 - On the other end of the temperature spectrum, an equally devilish plan. I will inconspicuously blow on the soup from my table using a common straw, rendering the meal slightly less appetizing. 

4. Decrease cultural significance - I will travel to the Museum of Modern Art and take a somewhat out of focus picture with Andy Warhol's famous soup cans. People will think they were painted kind of blurry; thus, damaging soup's cred in the art world forever. 

I sincerely hope these steps will make strides towards achieving your freedom. You are a hero and a national treasure, and I will probably see you tomorrow. 

With love and admiration,

Tom (D) Henry

*By / (slash) I meant OR. I was not referring to some kind of she-man/he-woman.