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.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Sunday, April 11, 2010
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.
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.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
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."
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."
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
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?"
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?"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)