PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Baby, It's Cold Outside, or is it Us?


Baby, It’s Cold Outside, or is it Us?

Baby, It’s Cold Outside,

Yes, it is, I agree,

People have blocks of ice, where their brains used to be.

People claim to be offended,

By a song that was popular before D-Day ended,

That’s right, 1944, when the average house cost,

Three thousand, four hundred dollars,

Makes me want to holler.

This all began because one listener complained,

To a radio station called WDOK.

It just goes to prove that during our lives today,

We have too much time on our hands, yeah, you heard me say.

There are hands on a clock, but our hands are holding a little block.

Our eyes stay transfixed while our brains allow themselves to be tricked,

Into discussion and raging about meaningless crap,

It’s a trap.

Don’t be a sap.

Wake up from your nap.

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Real-Life Wizard

View all poems →

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.