Book Report

I have to write a book report,

The teacher said I should.

You know it really ain’t the sort

Of thing what I do good.

I do real good at breakin’ stuff

An’ eatin’ my dessert.

An’ I’m the king of playin’ rough

An’ fightin’ in the dirt.

But books is for dem other guys

Who stay inside and read.

Dey wear dose glasses on dere eyes

And watch dere noses bleed.

But if I gotta study some

I guess I better do it.

I’ll show dem all I ain’t so dumb.

No problem--nothin’ to it!

“I really really really really

Really like dis book.

I’m very very very very

Glad I took a look.

“Of both my books, dis book has been

The best book what I gots.

It was real fun to color in

And then connect the dots.”

Pet Parade!

We had a pet parade today,

It really was so neat!

My friends and all their animals

Marched up and down the street!

First Bobby McFurtle brought out his pet chicken,

And Clarence O’Flicken showed off his pet llama.

Then Lizzy Obama fed grapes to her lizard,

And Marlee McBlizzard jumped rope with her lemur.

Then Dominick Femur did tricks with his rhino,

And Sam Durndifyno swam laps with her orca.

My pal Peter Porka convinced his pet spider

To dance with Ken Krider and his brontosaurus.

At last, Billy Boris with his pet okapi,

Marched on with Sue Sloppy and her tiny turtle.

It really was a sight to see!

I watched it with my pup,

Then ran away, quick as could be—

No WAY I’m cleaning up!

My Wish

If I had a little magic,

Or a single super power,

I would make my little sister

Take a shorter, quicker shower!

’Cause I have to go so bad,

And she’s been in there for an hour!

Dress Mess

There's nougat on my nicest shirt

And toffee on my tie,

That's chocolate there, it isn't dirt

That stained my sock supply.

This blobby ball of bluish goo

Resembles jelly beans.

I wonder how it got into

The pocket of my jeans.

I think this was a gummi fish,

And this might be a mint.

This red thing could be licorice

Beneath a lot of lint.

There's peanut butter on my pants

And ice cream on my vest.

I don't suppose I have a chance

Of ever getting dressed!

Whoever thought it might be good

To launder every sweet

Must not have fully understood

"Wash up before you eat."

Best If Read By...

This poem is expiring,

It’s starting to go bad.

The jokes are old, the rhymes are cold,

Its best days have been had.

It once was fresh and interesting,

With witty words galore,

But now it’s gone all moldy

Like a cheesy metaphor.

Where once were puns, there now are nones,

Where lines were tight, they sag.

The rhythm’s gone all bloated,

Like a big old inflated grocery store plastic bag.

And even rhymes that once were sharp

Have gone all forced and dull,

Just like the horns that still adorn

A worn-out, tired bull.

Oh read this poem quickly

While it’s still a bit inspired.

Oh please don’t wait—oh no, too late!

This poem just went bad.

Fashion Police

Oh please don’t wear your underpants

Where everyone can see ’em.

For if you do, I’ll take them to

The nearest art museum.

And right beside a sculpture

From the second century,

Your underpants will hang, stretched out

For everyone to see.

And even if they’re dirty,

Or in very bad condition,

I’ll keep them on display,

And charge a dollar for admission.

So keep them tucked down in your pants,

Be grateful that you’ve got ’em.

They’re not for show, I hope you know.

They’re there to hide your bottom!

Collect Them All!

When the lights came in my window

And the ground beneath me shook,

I’ll admit that I was nervous,

And I didn’t want to look.

When they beamed me to their spaceship

In the middle of the night,

I was slightly more than nervous--

I was paralyzed with fright!

When they tossed me to one side

Between some boxes and some jars,

And they hit the gas and headed back

To race between the stars,

Then I started to be curious

And wonder for a while.

Why on Earth would they come take me

Just to toss me in a pile?

So I peeked inside the boxes,

And undid a lid or three.

What I found was most surprising--

There was nothing else like me!

First a feathered Martian poodle

Licked me with its spiky tongue,

Then I chanced to meet a rainbow bee

Who whistled while he stung.

Then a purple pickled pepper

And a three-winged jumbo bat,

Plus a tree that grew spaghetti

And an average-looking cat.

There were napkin holders, magazines,

Some powdered beverage mix,

And the headline from a paper:

“Korkon Captures Xanthor Six!”

Then at last I came to figure out

The nature of this stunt--

This was not a real abduction,

But a space scavenger hunt!

I was just a random item,

Nothing special, nothing great,

Just a knick-knack or a doo-dad,

Like a “Sports Collectors’ Plate.”

I might never see my house again,

Or even Planet Earth,

Just to help some Martians win a prize

Of questionable worth.

Now I sit beside a trophy

And some old tortilla chips

In the closet of a dorm room

On the largest of their ships.

If I squint and stare into the stars

I might make out Earth’s Sun.

It’s so far away and tiny . . .

What the heck--at least we won!