Tim Torkildson's Clown Alley
The Poet Laureate of the New York Times Newsroom
Thursday, December 24, 2020
Today's Timericks.
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A tofu wrap will Santa get with almond milk tonight; his cookie days are over -- he must change his appetite. No sugar and no dairy in thi...
Gathered home.
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Gathered home I long to be, now and for eternity. Final haven, sheltered shore; where my sorrows come no more. Bind my wandering heart to ...
Wednesday, December 23, 2020
Today's timericks.
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The issuing of Pardons is a presidential perk; even when that president is nothing but a jerk. Perhaps he thinks St. Peter at the Pearly G...
Prose Poem: Listicals
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There may be a Santa Claus, but there is no list. I'm talkin' about The List -- the one that has the names of all those who get to...
At the going down of the sun there was no darkness
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The scriptures say one moonless night this land was bathed in broad daylight. A sign that in far Bethlehem the Christ was born, all woe to...
Tuesday, December 22, 2020
Today's timericks
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Uncle Sam says Walmart stores pushed opioids like cheap s'mores. Walmart counters with the claim that Uncle Sam should take the blame....
Prose Poem: The Inspector.
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"No! No! No!" cried the Inspector shrilly, when I tried to hang a string of pickled walnuts on my Christmas tree. "That ite...
This life is a probationary state
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This life is a probation, to see which we will choose -- to live with God forever, or His alliance lose. You cannot have it both ways, mix...
Monday, December 21, 2020
Prose Poem: Dead Sailors.
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There was one too many in the pool. I did a surreptitious head count, just like everyone else. "Alright!" yelled our instructor,...
Today's timericks
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Tuna salad for my lunch really packs a grody punch; people who then catch my breath will go into 'sudden death.' Luckily, with mas...
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