umbrella, heaven, god

the woman's umbrella had turned inside out on her.
"beautiful day," said the man who walked by her. this was a sarcastic thing to say because of the rain.
the woman was wet and cold, but once she got home she warmed up quickly by the fire.
forty years later, when the woman died, she went to heaven and it was raining there too.
"why all the rain?" she asked god.
"look around," he said, and so she did. she noticed that everything was green and beautiful; ferns, and orchids, and mossy trees, and lots of healthy fat dandelions.
"it rains because the plants need the water to be healthy," said god.
"i don't like the rain on my skin," said the woman, shivering.
"so," said god, "turn yourself inside out."
the woman found that she had a zipper down her skin, which she undid and turned herself inside out.
"there," said god. "you look more beautiful now." and there was no way to tell if he was being sarcastic.

Vocal Quirks

If we bartered our voices, like garters or hats
The duck might trade his for the mouse’s
Imagine him squeak, with his big old duck beak
While “quacks” came from cracks in the houses

Alas, I'm Easygoing

Alas, I'm easygoing
There’s not much that I mind
I keep my molehills molehills
I generally don’t whine
And yet I can’t help feeling
(Though it must sound idiotic)
That I would like, just sometimes
To be a bit neurotic
Now I’m not talking crazy
That’s not my cup of tea
Instead, I’d fancy being
Just a little OCD
I’d follow the food pyramid
And rarely eat desserts
And pick off hair and bits of lint
From other peoples’ shirts
Before eating at a restaurant
I’d inspect its every nook
And ask, “Do you put MSG
in anything you cook?”
I’d check the price of everything
I’d only shop on sales
And I’d lotion up my cuticles
Before I cut my nails
I’d always shut the toilet seat
And put my clothes on hooks
And I’d never ever ever
Break the spine on any book
I’d organize my DVDS
By year and by director
I’d put them all in cases
And their cases in protectors
I never would wear white with black
Or navy blue with gold
And I’d carry earmuffs always
Just in case I should feel cold
I’d shine my shoes three times a day
With purebred camel spit
And for every different pan
I’d have a different oven mitt
I’d sanitize my doorknobs
And I’d measure out my peas
And one-by-one electrocute
My cat’s and puppy’s fleas
I’d never step on sidewalk cracks
Or grass, or turf, or soil
And I’d wrap up all my leftovers
With anti-wrinkle foil
I’d take at least three showers
After every time I sneezed
And get blood tests every other day
To see if I’m diseased
Yes, I wish I were fastidious
Nit-picky and Type A
But alas, I’m imperturbable
Guess I was born that way.

Fear of Bubbles

I’m terrified of bubbles

The awful way they gleam

The horrid popping sound they make

It makes me want to scream

I can’t stand watching fish exhale

Or babies blow their spit

And carbonated sodas

Make me nearly throw a fit

Just thinking about hot tubs

Makes me whimper like a pup

I don’t even bathe or shower

In case bubbles might show up

But what I don’t get is why

The others hate me for my fear

Why do they hold their nose and run

Whenever I come near?

I found a ghost

I found a ghost, loitering
I feared
from his blank look, slouch, and drool
that he was stark raving bonkers;
but to be sure, I asked him
“Has your brain turned to mush?”
He replied: “Mush, mush!” giggled, and clapped.
So that’s how I knew.

Preferences

There once was a man with a key
Who set the zoo animals free
Except for the trout
Who said, "Don't let me out!
I prefer my small tank to the sea."

I've Been Needing Some Glue For My Gnu

I've been needing some glue for my gnu
'Cause my gnu is infected with flu
Yes, he gave such a cough
That his horns fell right off
And without them he's miserably blue

A Man With No Hands Named McHeath

A man with no hands named McHeath
Has a terrible itch on his feet
Like a kitten whose knees
Have been bitten by fleas
He scratches his itch with his teeth

Telling the Truth and In Case I Die

Telling the Truth

“I walk my dog in rain or shine,” brags Mrs. Poppentoe
But her poor dog’s fat, and why is that?
She lives where they only get snow.

In Case I Die

put the "fun" in funeral.
everyone must read Ogden Nash.
i want there to be a streaker.
put a roller coaster on my grave
and invite
the friendly millipedes
and beautiful earthworms.

Milo's Silo

there was a man named milo
he had a big grain silo
the grain was miles high-oh
the grain in milo's silo
the people came to buy-oh
the grain in milo's silo
the barley, wheat and rye-oh
that was in milo's silo
but then around july-oh
poor milo he did cry-oh
and why did milo cry-oh?
the rats got in the grain!

chorus:
the rats got in the grain!
why de do dat?
rats get hungry too!
how de do dat?
snuck in through a hole!
where da hole at?
bottom of the grain!

(repeat)

The Pizzly Bear

There is a bear called pizzly
Half polar bear, half grizzly
He likes his soda fizzly
And his tenderloin steak sizzly
But he hates it when it’s drizzly
‘Cause it makes his hair all frizzly.

The Dreadlock

Little Billy Batton-Wings
Was not afraid of many things
He’d even once explored a cave
You see, he really was quite brave
But Billy lived on Avenue Pine
And what sent shivers up his spine
Was one old neighbor down the block
The one they simply called “Dreadlock.”
The Dreadlock’s house looked dark and cold
And very, very, very old
The Dreadlock never left his house
And was as quiet as a mouse
But rumor had it that at night
The Dreadlock had an appetite
For eating supple little things
Like boys named Billy Batton-Wings
And that’s why Billy did avoid
The house of this strange humanoid
A man whom he had never seen
But whom he knew was dreadful mean.
Now as it happened to turn out
Young Billy was a new Boy Scout
And every August they’d fund-raise
By selling donuts (chocolate glazed)
“Each boy scout,” said the leader, “should
Sell donuts in his neighborhood.
Don’t skip a single house or shack.
I don’t want Boy Scouts here who slack.”
Poor Billy cried, “But on my block
There lives the dreaded old Dreadlock!”
The leader said, “Just ring the bell.
And if he doesn’t come, oh well.”
“But if he does, I’ll have you know
He’ll eat me up from head to toe!”
The leader said, “Enough of that.
A Boy Scout’s not a scaredy cat.”
And with that, there was no more talk
Poor Billy went home to his block
He sold his donuts faithfully
To Mrs. Blops and Mr. Glee
And many other neighbors too
Like Mr. Bloke and Mrs. Gloo
And at the setting of the sun
He’d been to every house but one
He almost thought he’d stop at that
But then thought, “I’m no scaredy cat.
I’ll march right up to Dreadlock’s door
And sell a dozen, maybe more!”
But as he headed to the gate
His knobby knees began to shake
And in his throat there formed a lump
His heart began to thump and thump
And though he was in state of shock
He gave the door a “knock knock knock”
The hinges soon began to creak
He made a little frightened squeak
For in the door a figure loomed
And Billy felt that he was doomed
The figure was tall, dark and strong
With dreadful dreadlocks three feet long
And Billy with his mind ablur
Asked, “W-would you l-like some donuts sir?
Y-you see, I’m t-trying to fund-raise…
They’re 50 cents, and ch-chocolate glazed…”
But Dreadlock, like a crafty fox
Just snatched away the donut box
Then disappeared inside his house
As quickly as a sewer mouse
Poor Billy cried out in dismay
He thought of all he’d have to pay
A box of donuts! That was worth
More than he had in his small purse
He’d tried so hard to fund-raise, yet
He’d very soon end up in debt
So with his head drooped toward the floor
He walked off sadly from the door
Until he thought he heard a squeak
A quiet, rusty door-hinge creak
He glanced back at the house so old
And, lo! He saw a pot of gold!
Upon the doorstep, in the night
The gold was like a shining light
Turns out that crafty dreadlocked fox
Had paid up for the donut box
Young Billy grabbed the pot with glee
And took it home for all to see
His parents said, “Well how ‘bout that!
Our Billy ain’t no scaredy cat.”
Then Billy saw with his own eyes
That etched upon the gold pot’s side
There was a phrase, a phrase which said:
“The Dreadlock is not one to dread.”

Two Bananas

There are, of course, an awful lot
Of funny gods and deities
And in this poem I’ll introduce
Approximately three of these.
To start, there is the God of Sun
Who turns his light bulb on and off
And in his free time listens to
Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninoff.
And then there is the God of Wind
The gusts and breezes are his toys
But when he’s eaten Taco Bell
He’s prob’ly one you should avoid.
The God of Oceans is the chap
Who makes the waves go in and out
He has control of all the fish
From great blue whales to rainbow trout.
And though that’s three, there’s one god more
Whose powers, to be fair, are moot
He’s called the Two Bananas God
And carries pairs of yellow fruit.
Well, these four gods, as it turns out
Were neighbors on Utz Spaga Street
And at the local theist club
The four of them would weekly meet.
The God of Sun would always start
By showing off what he could do
“See that woman in her car?” he’d ask
“The one right there that’s dressed in blue?”
The other gods would nod
And he’d say, “Take a look, you guys!”
And make the sun shine brightly
Straight into the woman’s eyes.
The sunlight made the woman squint
She screamed, “I fear I cannot see!”
And panicked, turned the wheel
And drove into a large oak tree.
The three gods watched the woman crash
And laughed a hearty laugh, each one
“A splendid joke!” they cried aloud
“You’re quite a trickster, God of Sun!”
And then it was the Wind God’s turn
To play along in the charades
He picked his victim carefully:
A Kansas girl with pigtail braids
He said, “Watch this!” and blew his winds
A grand tornado he did cause
His mighty gusts swept up the girl
And blew her and her braids to Oz.
“Terrific!” cried the gods, “What joy!
And what a funny braided kid!”
Just Two Bananas didn’t laugh
But then again, he never did.
“It’s my turn!” said the Ocean God
He’d already picked his victim out:
A Bluebry Island surfer boy
Named Lemon Jimmy Huffer Snout.
“That’s there’s the one!” said Ocean God
“Let’s hope the fellow’s somewhat brave.”
The four gods watched and saw a fin
Appear above the ocean waves.
Poor Lemon saw the shark fin too
He whimpered like a cornered pup
The jaws approached and very soon
The surfer boy was gobbled up.
The gods began guffawing
Bursting out in rowdy hoots
Except for one—who peeled and ate
Two simple yellow fruits.
“Well, that was fun,” said Oceans God
“But gosh, my skin feels dry.”
“My head hurts,” said the God of Wind
“It’s time to say goodbye.”
And so they left the theist club
And went their separate ways
With three of them affected
By a feeling of malaise.
The next week all four met again
To show pranks--each by turn
The Oceans God performed a flood
And Sun God gave sunburns.
The Wind God caused a hurricane
Which killed a boy named Barber Newt
But Two Bananas merely sat
And ate two simple yellow fruits.
And though the three gods laughed
They felt quite weak and rather ill
The God of Sun had muscle cramps
And Oceans God had chills.
The next week when they met again
They had no mood for fun
The Wind God’s face was full of zits
And Sun God had the runs.
The Wind God said, “No games today.
My face is full of pus
Let’s google all our symptoms
And find out what’s wrong with us.”
They looked at many illnesses
From hives to blood leukemia
But in the end, they learned they had
Acute hypokalemia.
“Paralysis is next!” they cried
“And then our deaths are fast to come.
And all because we didn’t eat
Enough potassium.”
The gods all wailed and sobbed aloud
And pulled their hair out from the roots
Except for one, who merely sat
And ate two simple yellow fruits.

The Dromedary

Ought a person to be wary
Of the hairy dromedary?
Is it smart to be afraid
Of one that walks digitigrade?
No—fear not this ungulate
Although it may expectorate
It journeys over dunes of sand
Much better than the Bactrian
And like all things, with humps it’s true
No need for two when one will do.

Waiting for Gideon

Have you ever been waiting? Waiting for Gideon?
Gideon’s eyes are as black as obsidian
And if you wait for him—this is the truth
He’ll bring you whatever you’ve wanted since youth.
See, I’d wanted a baby since I was just five
A baby that’s pudgy and smart and alive
“My baby,” I thought, “will grow like a tree.
And if I just wait, Gids will bring it to me.”
So I waited for years on the streets of New York
Looking out for Old Gids, my personal stork
And after ten years he finally arrived!
He said, “You want a baby that’s smart and alive?”
And I said, “Yes, yes! Just bring it right here!”
“It’s everywhere,” he said, and then disappeared.
In my head I felt angry and cheated and mean
I was so darn upset I began to turn green
But then I heard everyone starting to yell
“Get down!” someone screamed, “It’s about to be hell!”
So I lay on the ground like the rest, and stayed put
There was panic like something real bad was afoot
There were rumors and whispers, and some guy named Pork
Said a giant volcano was there in New York!
He said the first minute there’d be an eruption
Then lava and death and all kinds of disruption!
Well, I didn’t think Pork really seemed like the cleverest
Until I saw something as big as Mt. Everest!
An enormous volcano, right there in the road
And it looked like it was just about to explode!
I was laying right there, so I had a good viewing
And boy if that mountain just didn’t start spewing!
But it didn’t spew lava or anything hot
In fact, it spewed BABIES! Right there on the spot!
I was suddenly swimming in infantile ocean
I felt as insane as a crackhead in motion
A volcano of babies! How truly absurd!
Old Gideon really was true to his word
And although I love babies, I sure wasn’t greedy
There have to be babies enough for the needy
So I picked just one infant—a cute little punk
And he was a bit fat so I named him Chunk Munk
He blew bubbles of spit, bubbles straight from the deep
And I knew he was just the right baby to keep
So trust in Old Gideon, he knows your fate
If you wait long enough then it won’t be too late
Keep your fingers crossed tight! It could just be true
That there’s a volcano out there for you too.

Jerome the Sad Cloud

You know a lot of things, my friend
And others know them too
Like how to turn the TV off
And how to use the loo
You know that pasta's floppy
And that urchins have sharp spines
But here's one thing you've never known:
The clouds can read our minds.

They're up there in the sky all day
With nothing much to do
And so to pass the time they watch
The thoughts of me and you
Of course when they're not doing that
They think thoughts of their own
Some are sad, and some are glad
And one was named Jerome.

Jerome was not a happy cloud
In fact, he cried a lot
"I'm fat and gross and dumb," he'd think
"I might as well just rot."
"I haven't got a single friend
I'm lonely as can be
And surely there is no one else
Who feels the same as me."

He didn't often read our minds
"There's just no point," he'd sigh
But one day, merely on a whim
He thought that he would try.
He picked a tall and handsome man
Whose name was Fred P. Frinks
"I bet his life is great," he said
"I wonder what he thinks."

Fred Frinks was walking home from work
And this is what he thought:
"I'm fat and gross and awful dumb
I might as well just rot.
I haven't got a single friend
I'm lonely as can be
And surely there is no one else
Who feels the same as me."

Jerome was shocked; he gasped aloud
"I never would have guessed!
This man's down in the dumps, and yet
He's wealthy and well-dressed!"
And then Jerome felt something new
Which we call empathy
"I know just how he feels," he thought
"He's just the same as me!"

"Poor Fred should know he's not alone.
I'll help him out," he said.
"I cannot speak to humans
So I'll give a hug instead."
And so he spread his wispy arms
And floated down to earth
And gave Fred Frinks the biggest hug
He'd ever had since birth

Jerome thought, "That'll cheer him up!"
But Fred began to sob
"There's nothing worse," he moaned
"Than when a clear day turns to fog."

Milky Mix-up

There once was a young Mrs. Chow
Who gave birth to a fully-grown cow
She said, "I don´t mind
That it´s not of my kind
But who does the breastfeeding now?"

The Pilot of Dreams (twist ending)

I woke up late this morning
Feeling strange as strange can be
For I was floating on a turnip
In the middle of the sea
The purple sea had gentle waves
And veggies bobbed along
Like pumpkins, peppers and celery sticks
And the turnip I was on
“Excuse me,” I said, to no one at all
“But why am I not in my house?”
Then you wouldn’t believe what crawled out of my ear—
A tiny crimson mouse!
“I’m so sorry, so sorry!” the crimson mouse cried
“You see…I’m your Pilot of Dreams.
But I've made a mistake, and oh, what a mess
You woke up in the middle it seems!”
“You’re in charge of my dreams?!” I blurted aloud
“Why—I must be completely insane!
A rodent controls my somnolent world?
My dreams aren’t produced by my brain?”
“Of course not, my dear,” the rodent replied
“Nighttime is rest-time for your brain.
Dream Pilots take over the unconscious work
Don’t worry—we’re very well trained.
You’ve got buttons and levers inside of your head
And I can control every one
If I push the red button, you’ll dream you’re a queen
But the blue one will make you a nun
If I press the pink pedal, you’ll dream you’re a moose
Who has landed on top of the moon
While the lavender button will give you a dream
In which you’re a hairy baboon
If I press the black buzzer and have my toes crossed
You’ll dream about amorous weasels
And if I uncross my toes but wink my left eye
You’ll dream you’ve contracted the measles
Remember the dream you recently had
In which you arrived at church nude?
That was when I cranked up The Embarrassment Dial
I apologize, ma’am—that was rude
And what if I turn the sparkly green key?
Why, you’ll dream you’re a hideous troll
But if while I turn it, I cry: “Splishy splash!”
You’ll dream you’re a fish in a bowl
If I pull the white knob, you’ll dream you’re a sock
Spinning circles around in the dryer
And if I pull the same knob three times with my tail
You’ll dream you’re a French fritter fryer
But if I press all the buttons, and yank all the cords
And I shift from sixteenth to twelfth gear
Then you’ll dream that you’re on a turnip boat
With a mouse that climbed out of your ear.”

The Man Who Dated Toast

I once met a man playing rummy
Who had dated dry toast (what a dummy)
When I asked, "How'd it go?"
He said, "Well, you know
It was good but the sex was sure crummy."

A Handsome Crustacean

There once was a handsome crustacean
Exceedingly skilled at flirtation
But he went out with Charlotte
A known lobster-harlot
Which ruined his good reputation

Catch of the Day

There once was a mermaid named Flub
Who bit on a fisherman´s grub
Said the man, "What a pearl!
I shall marry the girl
And I´ll keep her at home in the tub!"

optic exam

dilate! dilate!
your pupils
no longer buttons
but cauldrons

the doctor is here
with clawed leather hands
and a lab coat

bad news
tongue of newt
found stewing in your pupil

the sun will need humanglasses
to look you in the eye

Vacation from Sanity

I’m on vacation from sanity
I’m under the manic palm trees
The irrational water laps at my toes
I’m caressed by the paranoid breeze
I like to build small castles
In the schizophrenic sand
And pick up loony seashells
With my misanthropic hands
I feed the angry seagulls
With pieces of bipolar bread
While bright maniacal kites
Swoop through the wind above my head
I’ve brought a psychotic picnic
Which I eat while the raving sun sets
I watch crackpot couples strolling by
Walking their schizoid pets
I’m on vacation from sanity
And although I may seem lazy
It’s hard to tell if I am sane
‘Til I know what it’s like to be crazy

hey zebra

today, i thought
today i will yell "HEY ZEBRA!"
in the crowded subway station
and maybe a zebra
will turn around
or any other creature,
i'm not picky.
i thought "HEY ZEBRA!"
and rehearsed "HEY ZEBRA!"
and i was surrounded
by the strange silent overcoated herd
perhaps
a zebra among them
but, i felt the strange silent pressure
of the overcoats
and i couldn't yell
i only squeaked
"hey zebra"
and it didn't work.

Pain

Cinderella thought
She had it bad
She obviously didn’t meet
Jesus.

my ascent from poverty

Today I had only three dollars and twenty-five cents
I bought water, flour, salt and yeast
Now I am rolling in dough.

household objects

that dorky teapot is staring at me.
those prissy curtains are judging my outfit.
the svelte spatula thinks i'm chubby.
the socialite dessert spoons think i should get out more.
those sociopathic dish rags are plotting to kill me.
your fundamentalist doorknob is praying for my soul.
that brawny waffle-maker thinks i'm a weakling.
my clumsy ice machine has a crush on me.
your red-checkered tablecloth disagrees with my politics,
and my overweight backpack is stalking me again.

the towel

the airline stewardess
handed me a warm, wet towel
but
i didn't know what to do with it.
other people
wiped their face and hands.

ginsberg

this morning i sat on the train
while sitting, i watched men in yellow outfits
hired by the government
burn piles and piles of garbage
while sitting, i listened to allen ginsberg read "america"
somebody else was blasting techno music
from their handheld technological music device
i listened and the suburbs went by out the window
garbage, grafitti, half-dead buildings push the ugliness away from the center keep cholesterol away from the heart.
i mental-blocked-out the techno
as it was, ginsberg was a private visitor
all-access pass
welcome to my neurons.
ginsberg says: america i still haven't told you what you did to uncle max after he came home from russia.
i get the feeling from ginsberg that america puts its shoes on first and its socks on second.

the definition of super-fortunately

she twists the twine around her waist
jumps off the cliff...
the thin twine breaks.
she twirls and screams, careens
through tender sky...
"my my" she thinks
"i am about to die!"
...but what is that? a giant bat
returning home at dawn?
no--not a bat! my stars! gee whiz! that´s a pteranodon!
she lands upon his wings, and sings
"what luck of clover-four!
instead of splat upon the ground
i´m on a dinosaur!"
past rocks and trees they ride the breeze
and reach speeds meteoric
instead of suicide, a rollercoaster prehistoric
she rides, they roam, then she goes home
she bakes herself some ham
"my climbing rope snapped off today...
how fortunate i am."

the illiterate wizard of mings

I am the magnificent magical marvelous
mind-boggling Wizard of Mings!
I can make any regular rhino or rat
Grow a whimsical pair of white wings!
I can turn any snaggle-toothed salmon or snake
Into any old thing that I need
But alas and alack for my problem is that
I simply don’t know how to read!
Oh I desperately want to discuss Hume or Kant
To read Shakespeare, Rousseau, Sophocles…
I would give my big toe just to read Mr. Poe
But I can’t even sing A, B, C’s!
I think it’d be great-oh! to delve into Plato
Or journals of Captain James Cook!
For having a wand is awfully grand
But I long for the magic in books.

make-a-wish

hello,
is this madame delicious smelling perfume?
this is the make-a-wish-foundation, and
because you have terminal leukemia
we were wondering if perhaps there is something
you´d like to do before you...well...
anyhow, some of our most popular wishes
include disneyworld and
swimming with dolphins.

kind sir.
i know i am a very popular item
and my disease is very tragic
and this is why you have called.
but i have never understood why people love me.
and my only wish
is to borrow a nose.

told you so

My mother wore
a big fur coat.
"Mother," I said.
"You look like a jungle beast."
"No," she said.
"I look like a stylish middle-aged woman."
But
the next day
she was shot by a poacher.

Grandma

A wheelchair is
a personal roller coaster
.....right?....
on second thought,
maybe Grandma did not want
to be pushed down that hill.

money

please, sir
can i trade
this shriveled lemur head
for that pack
of Trident white?
no, ma'am
it costs $1.75

A Ghost Enjoys Some Roast

Said the ghost to his host,
“This is very good roast!
From the coast to the coast
I shall boast of this roast!
I have had many roasts
But, dear host, I’m engrossed
by your roast! Let us toast
to this roast! It’s the roast
That I do like the most.”
Said the host (who was fat)
“It is strange you say that…
The roast’s in the oven
That’s where the roast’s at
And during the length
Of our brief little chat
I have noticed you’ve eaten
The food of the cat.”

Mr. Cookie

Here comes Mr. Cookie
He’s got sprinkle frosting too!
And if you cross your eyes and sing
You’ll get a cookie too
What’s the song that you must sing?
Well, this is how it goes:
“If I can’t have a cookie, Sir,
Then I'll bite off your nose.”

options

“I live in a cage,” the robin said.
“My beak is sharp and my tummy is red.”
“I’m warming up,” said the soup in the pot
“And soon I shall be nice and hot.”
“You’ll boil, friend soup!” the robin said
“They’ll eat you then, and you’ll be dead!”
“I know,” said the soup. “I’ll be seasoned with sage.
And they’ll gobble me up. But you’re in a cage.”

The Boy Who Went to the Sea

Once there lived a very young boy
And a very young boy was he
He could swim like a fish, and he often did wish
He could live in the depths of the sea.
He’d sigh and he’d cry and he’d draw octopi
And he’d beg and he’d pout and he’d plea
But his mum said, “Now, now! I will never allow
You to live in the depths of the sea.”
“But mum!” he would yelp. “There are mermaids and kelp!”
And whales and great manatees!”
But his mum cried, “I said I would sooner be dead
Than allow you to live in the sea.”
“I don’t care!” said the tyke, and he hopped on his bike
And road til he couldn’t ride more
Though the journey was rough, our hero was tough
And quite soon he arrived at the shore.
He quickly jumped in, and he started to swim
And oh all the things he did see!
Some people say that he’s still there today
With the mermaids and great manatees.

I sat in the night

I sat in the night, with my hands on my head
And the night sat inside of my brain.
And I counted the stars with my fingers and toes
And then counted the droplets of rain.
The raindrops were simple, the stars were stuck-up
(After all, they’re the ones with the fame)
But raindrops are wet and they wetted me too
Which means we are one and the same.

My Pet Pelican

I have a pet—a pelican
I think he’s rather swellican
He always heeds when I say “Come!”
I never have to yellican
He catches me fresh fish to eat
And more fresh fish to sellican
And when it rains, he shelters me
His wings like an umbrellican
A better friend I’ll never have
I do so love my pelican
Although, with all the fish he eats,
He has begun to smellican

Grandma's Dentures

Grandma just got dentures
They’re really rather nice
But to hear her talk about them
You’d think the things were mice
“I’m sure I set them down here.
Right by the drying rack.
They must have gone a-scamperin’ off
Just when I turned my back!”
Then later she’ll say, “Here they are!
Right by my walking stick.
Can you believe they made it here?
Yee-gads, those things are quick.”
We’ll say, “Glad you found them.”
And then we’ll roll our eyes
She ought to buy a denture wheel
To give them exercise.

Seafood Brunch

The yearly ocean potluck
Is the brunch I like the most
There’s homemade strawberry jellyfish
And halibutter for toast
Sip the manatea—it’s delicious
And give the crab apples a try
Sample walrussian vodka, and for dessert
Have some fresh-baked octopie!

Fish Wishes

When you wish upon a star
Doesn’t matter where you are
But if it’s fish that you wish for
Better that you’re near the shore

The Humuhumunukunukuapua'a

So it’s truemutruemunukunukuapua’a
That youmuyoumunukunukuapua’a
Are a humuhumunukunukuapua’a?
I never knewmuknewmunukunukuapua’a!

The Anemone Enemies

The anemone enemies live
In anemone enemy denemies
Ten anemone enemy women
Ten anemone enemy menemies
They like to write down stories
With anemone enemy penemies
And mornings they gather their eggs
From anemone enemy henemies
Some enjoy meditation
They seek anemone enemy zenemie
But those who pray to God
Say their anemone enemy amenomies.