One morning in my bedroom
I was startled by a snake,
so I picked him up and took him out
and threw him in the lake.
He returned a minute later,
meaning, no, he didn’t drown,
so I put him on my bicycle
and rode him out of town.
It was hardly half an hour
till he turned up in my room,
so I packed him in a parcel
and I shipped him to Khartoum.
When I found him back again
on the succeeding afternoon
I went looking for a way that
I could blast him to the moon.
When I couldn’t find a rocket
it was then I knew that, dang,
a snake is yours forever
once he eats your boomerang.
Toby the snowboarding Doberman Pinscher
is king of the freestyling dogs.
Toby can turn and McTwist in the halfpipe,
and ollie off boxes and logs.
No other Doberman’s ever been known
who can slalom and slide on a rail.
Never before has a dog been discovered
to cartwheel and back-flip and flail.
Toby can even leap into the air
and then spin through a 360 flip.
Sadly his talents are never enough
that they’ll win him a championship.
True, he’s the world’s only snowboarding Doberman,
still, I expect you’ll agree,
no one has ever been given a prize
when they’re stopping to sniff every tree.
My cat had kittens recently.
Her litter’s awfully cute.
I like to watch them wrestling.
I think it’s such a hoot.
Her litter like to roll around.
They like to scratch and bite.
They kick each other constantly.
It’s fun to watch them fight.
But, even so, I’ll pick them up
and put them all to bed
the minute they start punching
one another in the head.
I’m not concerned her kittens
couldn’t take a couple knocks.
It’s just that I don’t like to watch
her kitty litter box.
When rattlesnakes wear roller skates
it’s quite a sight to see.
They figure skate in figure eights
enthusiastically.
They spin their partners round and round
and throw them through the air,
then swing them down around the ground
with fluidness and flair.
They slide and glide from side to side
revolving all the while.
They skip and flip and zoom and zip
with elegance and style.
But skates for snakes are big mistakes
for, as they loop and leap,
they always land like pretzels in
a tied and twisted heap.
The Dancing Baboon of Djibouti
is known for his breakdancing skills.
He flips on his hips and his booty
from Boston to Beverly Hills.
He’ll bounce from his back to his belly.
He’ll hop on his hands and his chin.
He’ll scissor from Dublin to Delhi,
then drop to his shoulders and spin.
He’ll windmill from here to Helsinki.
He’ll rocket from Reno to Rome,
then pike on the point of his pinky
and pretzel hop into your home.
But if the Baboon of Djibouti
starts dancing inside your abode,
to run for your life is your duty,
for things are about to explode.
He’ll smash all your glasses and vases.
He’ll trash all your tables and chairs.
He’ll pull all your books from their cases,
then throw your TV down the stairs.
He’ll shatter your platters and pictures.
He’ll crash through the windows and walls.
He’ll fracture your bathtubs and fixtures.
He’ll rip up the rugs in the halls.
It may be his footwork is funky,
but dancing just isn’t enough,
for though he’s a breakdancing monkey,
he’s happier breaking your stuff.
My parrot doesn’t care to fly.
Although it sounds absurd,
he much prefers to skydive.
He’s a most peculiar bird.
You’ll see him leap from airplanes
in his zip-up nylon suit,
with goggles and a helmet
and, of course, a parachute.
He plummets toward the earth
and nearly breaks the speed of sound,
then pulls the ripcord just in time
before he hits the ground.
He skydives almost every day.
It leaves him feeling super.
And this is why he doesn’t fly:
Yep, he’s a parrotrooper.
The sun was in his bathing suit,
the moon in her pajamas.
They played all day
until the two
were called in by their mamas.
The sun went home and climbed in bed,
his mama sang a tune,
and soon the sun
was fast asleep
and dreaming of the moon.
The moon decided not to go;
instead she stayed outside.
She danced and played
and laughed and sang
and stayed awake all night.
When morning came the sun arose
and went outside to play,
but could not find
his friend the moon,
who slept inside all day.
So now these two are best of friends,
apart in dark and light.
The sun turns in
at evenfall —
the moon stays out all night.
The shining moon sees no sunlight,
the sun sees no moonbeams,
but when they each
are fast asleep
they’re in each other’s dreams.
This morning I made my mom breakfast in bed.
I tried to be careful, but burnt all the bread.
I tried to make sure that the coffee was hot,
by boiling the bit left in yesterday’s pot.
I charred a few pancakes, potatoes, and grits.
The sausage, I seared into smoldering bits.
I made her some muffins like miniature coals,
and roasted a package of cinnamon rolls.
I scorched several servings of hamburger hash,
and microwaved bacon until it was ash.
I blackened a bagel, which started to smoke.
The smoke alarm sounded. My mother awoke.
I think she was panicked. She looked up in dread.
I proudly presented her breakfast in bed.
She grimaced, then silently counted to ten,
and asked me to never make breakfast again.
Don’t ever dine with Frankenstein;
He feasts on flaming turpentine.
He chomps and chews on soles of shoes,
and quaffs down quarts of oily ooze.
At suppertime he’ll slurp some slime.
He’s known to gnaw on gristly grime.
His meals of mud and crispy crud
will curl your hair and chill your blood.
His poison, pungent, putrid snacks
may cause you seizures and attacks.
Your hair may turn completely white.
You may pass out or scream in fright.
Your skin will crawl.
Your throat will burn.
Your eyes will bulge.
Your guts will churn.
Your teeth will clench.
Your knees will shake.
Your hands will sweat.
Your brain will bake.
You’ll cringe and cry.
You’ll moan and whine.
You’ll feel a chill
run down your spine.
You’ll lose your lunch.
You’ll lose your head.
So come…
and dine with ME instead.
Snake Mistake
Toby the Snowboarding Doberman
Kitten Fight
When Rattlesnakes Wear Roller Skates
The Dancing Baboon of Djibouti
My Parrot Doesn’t Care to Fly
If You Give a Mouse a Motorcycle
The Tale of the Sun and the Moon
Breakfast in Bed
Advice from Dracula