Lack of humor

I realize humorous poetry is often looked down upon, yet I find myself unable to continue the current trend of "profound art..."

Here are two poems which may amuse or very well upset.

(For your Own Good)

It is for your own good,
Even if it kills you.
If it means the rod,
We will teach you.

You are the future.
Yet, you are the past.
We will preach there is no god,
Before and after mass.

You are young adults,
Yet, you are still children.
However, if you act as one...
Well it's off to prison.

Mature enough indeed,
To die under our flag.
Take a sip?
Spoiled apple, barrel is bad.

You are our offspring,
Our seeds in the hole.
We merely wish your lives,
Within control, within our mold.

Do as we say, not as we do.
This way is it understood.
For everything which happens to you,
Is for your own good.


(Man-Made Death)

Mad-made cure is what I need,
Oh well, fuck the cure... just give me a pill.
I love that temporary fix,
Save me a spot in line.

Washer-machine,
Wash me clean.

Partly cloudy today, with lots of speculation.
Please hold for the edit...
We are quite please with our new TV.
We are quite please indeed.

Washer-machine
Wash me clean.

Live on the edge until I fall right off.
Blood money beggars to the trough.
Buy, buy, buy, buy useless stuff.
Save me a spot in line.