Cavalcade of Cliché, 30

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.)

Rockers

The Beatles were aboard that day.

And soon the lads began to play.

But when the captain heard the sound,

He almost ran the ship aground.

“The ship,” he cried, “won’t stay afloat!

So, Beatles, please! Don’t rock the boat!”

Cavalcade of Cliché, 29

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.)

Chipper

He was a blockhead—no debate.

He kept it up around the clock.

He had a son we all berate:

He was a chip off the old block.

His neighbors tired of those two jerks—

Their gross behavior, grosser talk.

All reason failed (it rarely works),

And so they tried the chopping block.

Which worked. 

Cavalcade of Cliché, 28

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.)

 Cold Move on a Deep Lake

Your enemy—he isn’t nice—

Is standing there. Take my advice:

The ice is thin and won’t suffice,

So jump a bit to break the ice.

Cavalcade of Cliché, 27

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.)

Honesty is …

The darkest day of winter—cold!

The current year was very old.

He asked if he could borrow cash.

I nodded, but, not being rash,

I asked a very trusted friend,

“How will this go? How will it end?”

“Oh, splendid—like the sweetest song!

He’s honest as the day is long.”

Cavalcade of Cliché, 26

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.

 Zig-Zaggery

So Robin’s wife annoyed him—she

Incessantly just nagged and nagged.

He notched an arrow carefully …

She should’ve zigged; instead she zagged.

So Mrs. Hood is now no more,

And Robin Hood is on the run.

And not that we are keeping score,

But bullseye! (This is kind of fun!)

Now let’s agree that murder’s bad—

Uxoricide, a heinous crime.

But Robin was a hood—a cad.

And hoods will kill you, every time. 

Cavalcade of Cliché, 25

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.

Banking on It

My birthday gift: a fishing pole,

A plain one—nothing swank.

I got some bait, some waders; then …

I took it to the bank.

The stream, of course, yes, that’s the bank

Where I achieved my wish:

I sat and drank and dozed a bit—

And even caught a fish,

Which I put back (no killer, I),

Then went off to the store,

Where I bought chicken, veal, and pork,

Some sausage, steaks, and more.

Cavalcade of Cliché, 24

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.

Clubbing

I somehow traveled to the past—

And woke up in a cave,

Where prehistoric women stared

At me. And was I brave?

Oh no. I made some desperate sounds

Like “gorf” and “gork” and “fub.”

Mistake. A man with giant stick

Said, “Welcome to the club.”

I woke up in the ICU,

Relieved that I was safe.

But then I saw my hands were bound,

And had begun to chafe.

The doctor, masked, came in the room;

He held a giant stick,

And now I really wished that I

Were actually sick.

He bonked me on the head again.

But, oh, that was not all:

This was no ICU—It was

The Club Neanderthal.