There’s Nothing New Under the Sun
How rare to be original like Adam,
A man whose every word was his alone.
The jokes were new—no other comic had ’em—
Yet Eve would simply roll her eyes and groan.
At last he told her, “Lady, beg your pardon,
But I’m the one who opened at the Garden!”
Talkin’ ‘Bout My Generation
Hey Millennials, Zoomers
Whose parents are Boomers:
We’d sure love to see you some night.
Though you tell us you’re busy
And work till you’re dizzy,
You’ll want your inheritance, right?
Hey Millennials, Zoomers,
You’re chronic consumers.
We’ve handed you money; you’ve blown it.
We’ll choose who’s rewarded
With assets we’ve hoarded—
We’re fickle, and frankly we own it.
Hey Millennials, Zoomers,
No doubt you’ve heard rumors.
Allow us to offer some clarity:
Estates are exquisite,
But if you don’t visit,
We might go and leave ours to charity.
It-City Blues
My door lock is damaged; the oven won’t light;
My flooring’s all tattered, with stains.
The manager’s missing from morning to night
(He hides when a tenant complains).
The bugs are alarming—they’re growing in size,
As well as increasingly bold.
The lift and the lobby are full of dead flies,
And don’t get me started on mold.
My furnace is failing; the shower’s lukewarm;
My windows are drafty, and how.
In short, this apartment’s a glorified dorm,
But rent here’s a steal at four thou!