A Summer Vacation to Whirlyville

A summer vacation to Whirlyville

Where everyone’s whizzing around

You’re sure to get woozy in Whirlyville

It’s hard to keep track of the ground

The suns are all blurry in Whirlyville

Just how many suns do you need?

The world’s in a blender in Whirlyville

And the blender is set to high speed

No time for conversing in Whirlyville

The people don’t chit-chat—they squeal!

It’s hard to make small talk in Whirlyville

When your head’s spinning round like a wheel

And everything’s filthy in Whirlyville

Where everyone’s turning like tops

They’re all much too dizzy in Whirlyville

To operate broomsticks or mops

And all the food’s whirly in Whirlyville

Cotton candy swirled up pink and blue

But you might not want dinner in Whirlyville

Since your stomach’s in Whirlyville too

If you’ve never gone dancing in Whirlyville

It’s a great place to try pirouettes

You can charter a plane flight to Whirlyville

If you like spinning round in a jet

You’ll hear pleas for help here in Whirlyville

Like, “Somebody please stop the ride!”

But the mayor replies, “Here in Whirlyville

Whirls and whirling are all we provide.”

When you finally return home from Whirlyville

You’ll appreciate how stillness feels

There’s no food flying round; unlike Whirlyville

You can calmly sit down and eat meals

But six months or so spent out of Whirlyville

And the stillness will start to get old

Outside of the madness of Whirlyville

Folks usually do what they’re told

And the memory of whirls had in Whirlyville

Will unsettle your humdrum placation

So you’ll round up your kids and say, “Whirlyville!
Grab your hats, and let’s go on vacation.”

The Tale of Tree and Bird Man

The tree man went a-wandering to climb what he could climb

He very quickly happened on a rather ancient pine

He climbed its hefty branches with exquisite strength and grace

And when he reached the top he felt the sky upon his face

The bird man went a-twittering among the shy-eyed birds

He learned the whoop and whistle of their wise, flirtatious words

The birds said, “Bird man, join us in our imitative glee!”

And so he sprouted feathers and flew up into the tree

“Good gracious!” said the tree man. “Is this bird man I see here?

You’ve shrunk and grown some feathers! How exceptionally queer!”

The bird man flapped excitedly. “Chirp chirpy chirp!” he said

But twitters had no meaning in the puzzled tree man’s head

“I see that you’re no longer man,” the climbing fellow quoth

“You speak bird, and I speak man. How vexing for us both!”

The bird man looked with sorry eyes, and closed his pointed beak

Within their hearts, the two old friends felt lonelyfied and weak

“I’ll visit you,” the tree man said. “When winter be, I’ll come.

I’ll bring you seeds and poppy hulls, and cigarettes and gum.

The tree man went a-climbing then, this time a-climbing down

And took his place within his job within his eggy town.

When winter was, the bird man sat and waited in his tree

He thought, “Chirp chirp!” which meant, of course, “Will tree man come for me?”

But tree man—oh, the hapless chap!—had broken both his legs

While walking down the stairs he’d slipped upon some gooey eggs

And so the meeting happened naught; the two friends stayed at home

In nests of their own fashioning, both weakified, alone

And tree man had bought seeds and hulls, and cigarettes and gum

But as he couldn’t gift them, he consumed them, one by one.

Facts About Anatomy Must Rhyme or They Are False

Digestion of the gunk I’ve chewed

That is how I use my food

ATP that’s been removed

That is how my muscles move

Tiny hair cells in the ears

That is how I hear my hears

Rods and cones that snatch the light

That is how I see my sight

Cilia within the nose

That is how I smell a rose

Pumping lungs—I’ve got a pair

That is how I breathe the air

Ventricles that squeeze and squirt

That is how my heartbeat works

Neurons firing quick as blinks

That is how I think my thinks

Kittens, sloths and baby seals

That is how I feel my feels

And that’s how I end my song

(Have I gotten something wrong?)

Impotence Day

It’s Impotence Day!
So the wasp has no sting
The door has no doorknob
The bell has no ring
The sun has no sunshine
The dog has no bark
The sparkplug is missing
Its signature spark
The cup won’t hold water
The sponge doesn’t scrub
The bathtub drain stopper
Won’t fit in the tub
My pen ink is white
But my White-Out is black
My boomerang left
But it didn’t come back
The toaster’s not toasting
The freezer won’t freeze
The cows won’t make milk
And the milk won’t make cheese
The tigers are toothless
The sharks have no fins
The movie is over
Before it begins
The typewriter’s broken
It only types zeds
And all headless horsemen
Are now wearing heads
The planes can’t take off
They’re all stuck to the ground
The sky is below
And the earth isn’t round
It’s one giant shutdown
This Impotence Day
No school, no work
No rehearsal, no play
And with everything broken
You’d think I’d be sad
But I’m not, ‘cause I don’t need
Those things that I had
I only need you
You’re the one thing I need
The world all chained up
Leaves the two of us freed
We can cuddle and chat
We can frolic and play
We just can’t make love
‘Cause it’s Impotence Day.

I Pulled Out My Spine

I pulled out my spine through a hole in my neck

I swung it around and it caused a car wreck

It smashed through the windshield of one hapless man

Who was driving from here to the end of Japan

The spine hit his face and he veered off the track

His car spun around like a whirlpool of black

I ran to the scene and I called 9-1-1

But quickly I saw that the damage was done

The man was concussed; the wreck rattled his brain

He was babbling and giggling like someone insane

I told him, “I’m sorry! The fault is all mine!

I was just playing cowboy with my torn-out spine!”

And soon after I said this, we crumpled and died

We both felt relieved. Neither one of us cried.

A Ukulele On Displaylay

A ukulele on displaylay!

Is it all right for me to playlay?

Yes, you say that it’s okaylay?

‘kay, I’ll strum this ukulele

Wow! It sounds superb! I saylay

This is one grand ukulele!

It sounds fresh in a dainty waylay

Like a musical bouquetlay!

I shall strum the night awaylay

In New York and Santa Felay

All the folks will smile and swaylay

I will play from June to Maylay

What a perfect ukulele!

Give three cheers: Hip hip hooraylay!

Oh how I did wish and praylay

For this lovely ukulele

Who’da guessed I’d find it todaylay?

On the music shop displaylay

How much is it, by the waylay?

Ninety bucks! Oh, what dismaylay!

Guess I’ll have to just delaylay

Purchasing this ukulele.

The Tale of Mr. and Mrs. Crack

She cracked a joke—it cracked him up

You should’ve heard his chuckles

She cracked an egg, ate a crackerjack

He calmly cracked his knuckles.

She took a crack at cracking nuts

He took a crack at it too

He pushed too hard and cracked

The brand new nutcracker in two.

They always woke at the crack of dawn

They cracked each other’s toes

She’d buy books and crack their spines

His job was cracking codes.

 “I’ve got a lot of work,” he said

“My boss has cracked the whip.”

He cracked open his suitcase

And went on a business trip.

The business trip went well

And he said, “Boy, I’ve hit the jackpot!”

But when he returned, and cracked open the door

He saw she’d turned into a crackpot.

“You don’t look good,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

 “Gadzoodle!” she answered. “Whack-zack!”

“Oh no,” he said, and he realized the truth:

“You’ve been smoking cigarettes.”