Mister Sunshine
He’s a broken leg performer with a crooked second act.
Went from Brooklyn to Las Vegas with his sarcasm intact.
Does a Smith and Wesson stand-up, voice as sweet as antifreeze.
Tells you how he lost his cherry to some hooker overseas.
They call him Mr. Sunshine.
He’s as salty as a used spittoon.
MCs the neon circus
Where he shines just like a plumber’s moon.
Doesn’t pander to his critics. Slanders movie stars for laughs
Wielding heavy-handed put-downs like the jawbone of an ass.
Always orders top shelf vintage; likes his girlfriends under-age.
He’s the truth behind those rumors they found bloodstains on the stage.
They call him Mr. Sunshine.
Claims a hammer as his only tool.
A shylock rooked his agent,
Left him face down in the swimming pool.
He’s a smoke and mirrors pundit; all his opinions are strong.
Pegs some yokel as a sucker and he slams him all night long.
Bet the house at Caesar’s Palace; he was shaken, never stirred.
God, I hope that pregnant widow didn’t take him at his word.
They call him Mr. Sunshine.
He’s as wholesome as a canker sore.
Don’t ever lend him money.
He’ll just blow it at the liquor store.
He’s a poster child for rehab at the bottom of a slump.
Tried to come back with a wisecrack when Aunt Sophie found a lump.
He insinuates his poison to the marrow of the bone.
He’ll be praying for an encore on the night he dies alone.
They call him Mr. Sunshine.
He’s as funny as a dry monsoon.
He isn’t Mr. Starbuck.
He’s just a prick with a sharp harpoon.
Did ya hear the one about those crazy corporate chemists?
They’ve crossed the ebola virus with e-coli bacteria.
It’s being marketed in West Africa by Monsanto as Ebo Cola!
Copyright © Michael Kalavik | Year Posted 2021
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