Business was going downhill fast

for a middle-aged clown named Skipper.

Until he applied at the local church,

who gave him a job as a stripper.

Now he has work almost every night,

’till well past three or four.

The fellas are sweet and tip really well,

but his ass is constantly sore.

NOTE: WordPress has found a way to prohibit me and other poets from posting my 8 line poem in the format I’ve used here for the last six-plus years. It will only post as a paragraph. They probably removed the feature so they can monetize it…’cause poets are sooooo rich. Well, FUCK you WordPress! Fuck your WordPress algorithm too! I hope you both die in a fiery fuckin’ plane crash! I’m tired of greedy incompetent fuckwads fuckin’ up basic shit.

***Tuesday is John’s 114th happy birthday! Write him a fuckin’ Happy Birthday message!!! But whatever you do, don’t tell facebook that February 9th is NOT his real birthday. It’s actually Feb. 31st…there’s just a problem with their stupid algorithm! (It has no sense of humor), but that’s what you get when you’re ruled by robots. We’re all doomed…have a nice day. -Marsha