Jogging

He pops out for some milk
And before he can think
His legs have taken over
With his brain not in sync
He's running and running
Heart pumping away
This is not how he imagined
He'd end his short day

No Milk

He wakes up
There's no milk
Not a drop
Can be spilt
Into his morning
Coffee
And so, he must trek
On foot to the west
To seek out
One Stop

This verse expertly depicts a situation of dire distress and unrest, caused by the absence of milk, which can only be remedied with an arduous journey 'to the west' in order to attain self-fullfillment.

Missing Milk

Missing milk
Is quite the shame
When man returns
His tired frame
To recuperate his mind
Only to melancholy find
His milk has gone
Been all but used
And instead of his milky brew
A black coffee
Will have to do

The author's relationship with milk is such that it could be inferred that the lack milk mirrors the writer's mind: both having been ravished by modern society's routines.

Purple

Purple: the word which never rhymes
Stands like a vampire behind closed blinds
Avoiding light, lest he be devoured
Like milk and cereal before a shower
Purple: the bane of rhyming verse
Better shut away, like the vampire in his hurst
Whatever word proceeds purple first
Never succeeds in putting an end to verse
With such aptitude as purple's curse
Be it poem, novel, essay, or journal
Purple will never cease to curdle

I think the point the author is trying to make is that no matter the level of skill applied to rhyming the lexis 'purple,' it can't be done. Ironic perhaps.