>Does anyone ask me, "Hey, when is your birthday?"
"Can you play Monopoly?" "Do you like beans?"
"What is the capital of Yugoslavia?"
Or "Who embroidered that rose on your jeans?"
No, what's in the sack? That's all they care about.
Is it a rock or a rolled-up giraffe?
Is it pickles or nickels or busted bicycles?
And if we guess it, will you give us half?
Do they ask where I've been, or how long I'll be stayin'.
Where I'll be goin', or when I'll be back.
Or "How do?" or "What's new?" or "Hey, why are you blue?"
No, all they keep asking is, "What's in the sack?"
"What's in the sack?" I'm blowin' my stack
At the next one who asks me, "What's in the sack?"
What?
Oh no. Not you, too!
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WON'T YOU? Barbara's eyes are blue as azure
But she is in love with Freddy,
Karen's sweet but Harry has her,
Gentle Jane is going steady.
Carol hates me, so does May,
Abigail will not be mine,
Nancy lives too far away ...
Won't you be my Valentine?
ALICE
She drank from a bottle called DRINK ME
And up she grew so tall.
She ate from a plate called TASTE ME
And down she shrank so small.
And so she changed, while other folks
Never tried nothin' at all.
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SHADOW WASH I've never washed my shadow out
In all the time I've had it.
It was absolutely filthy I supposed.
And so today I peeled it off
The wall where it was leaning
And stuck it in the washtub
With the clothes.
I put in soap and bleach and stuff,
I let it soak for hours,
I wrung it out and hung it out to dry.
And whoever would have thunk
That it would have gone and shrunk
For now it's so much
Littler than I.
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115
RECIPE FOR A HIPPOPOTAMUS SANDWICH
A hippo sandwich is easy to make.
All you do is simply take
One slice of bread,
One slice of cake,
Some mayonnaise.
One onion ring.
One hippopotamus.
One piece of string,
A dash of pepper-
That ought to do it.
And now comes the problem ...
Biting into it!
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EIGHTEEN FLAVORS Eighteen luscious, scrumptious flavors-
Chocolate, lime and cherry.
Coffee, pumpkin, fudge-banana,
Caramel cream and boysenberry.
Rocky road and toasted almond,
Butterscotch, vanilla dip.
Butter-brickle, apple ripple.
Coconut and mocha chip.
Brandy peach and lemon custard,
Each scoop lovely, smooth, and round.
Tallest ice-cream cone in town.
Lying there (sniff) on the ground.
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POOR ANGUS Oh what do you do, poor Angus,
When hunger makes you cry?
"I fix myself an omelet, sir.
Of fluffy clouds and sky."
Oh what do you wear, poor Angus,
When winds blow down the hills?
"I sew myself a warm cloak, sir.
Of hope and daffodils."
Oh who do you love, poor Angus,
When Catherine's left the moor?
"Ah, then, sir, then's the only time
I feel I'm really poor."
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WHAT A DAY What a day,
Oh what a day.
My baby brother ran away,
And now my tuba will not play.
I'm eight years old
And turning grey,
Oh what a day.
Oh what a day.
119
MA AND GOD God gave us fingers-Ma says, "Use your fork."
God gave us voices-Ma says, "Don't scream."
Ma says eat broccoli, cereal and carrots.
But God gave us tasteys for maple ice cream.
God gave us fingers-Ma says, "Use your hanky."
God gave us puddles-Ma says, "Don't splash."
Ma says, "Be quiet, your father is sleeping."
But God gave us garbage can covers to crash.
God gave us fingers-Ma says, "Put your gloves on."
God gave us raindrops-Ma says, "Don't get wet."
Ma says be careful, and don't get too near to
Those strange lovely dogs that God gave us to pet.
God gave us fingers-Ma says, "Go wash 'em."
But God gave us coal bins and nice dirty bodies.
And I ain't too smart, but there's one thing for certain-
Either Ma's wrong or else God is.
120
BANG-KLANG I'm Big Barney Zang of the railroad gang.
My partner is Charlie O'Flynn.
And I hold the nails
For the big steel rails.
And Charlie, he hammers 'em in.
And most of the time
He does just fine.
But now and again he fails.
Maybe tomorrow I'll hammer 'em in,
And let Charlie hold the nails.
121
TRAFFIC LIGHT The traffic light simply would not turn green
So the people stopped to wait
As the traffic rolled and the wind blew cold
And the hour grew dark and late.
Zoom-varoom, trucks, trailers.
Bikes and limousines,
Clatterin' by-me oh my!
Won't that light turn green?
But the days turned weeks, and the weeks turned months
And there on the corner they stood,
Twiddlin' their thumbs till the changin' comes
The way good people should.
And if you walk by that corner now.
You may think it's rather strange
To see them there as they hopefully gaze
With the very same smile on their very same face
As they patiently stand in the very same place
And wait for the light to change.
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ME-STEW I have nothing to put in my stew, you see.
Not a bone or a bean or a black-eyed pea,
So I'll just climb in the pot to see
If I can make a stew out of me.
I'll put in some pepper and salt and I'll sit
In the bubbling water-I won't scream a bit.
I'll sing while I simmer, I'll smile while I'm stewing,
I'll taste myself often to see how I'm doing.
I'll stir me around with this big wooden spoon
And serve myself up at a quarter to noon.
So bring out your stew bowls.
You gobblers and snackers.
Farewell-and I hope you enjoy me with crackers!
123
DOUBLE-TAIL DOG Would you like to buy a dog with a tail at either end?
He is quite the strangest dog there is in town.
Though he's not too good at knowing
Just exactly where he's going.
He is very very good at sitting down.
He doesn't have a place to put a collar.
And I'll admit it's rather hard to lead him.
And he cannot hear you call
For he has no ears at all.
But it doesn't cost a single cent to feed him.
He cannot bite, he'll never bark or growl,
Just scratch him on his tails, he'll find it pleasing.
But you'll have to take him out
For twice as many walks.
And I'll bet that you can quickly guess the reason.
124
PAUL BUNYAN He rode through the woods on a big blue ox.
He had fists as hard as choppin' blocks,
Five hundred pounds and nine feet tall... that's Paul.
Talk about workin', when he swung his axe
You could hear it ring for a mile and a half.
Then he'd yell "Timber!" and down she'd fall... for Paul.
Talk about drinkin', that man's so mean
That he'd never drink nothin' but kerosene.
And a five-gallon can is a little bit small... for Paul.
Talk about tough, well he once had a fight
With a thunderstorm on a cold dark night.
I ain't sayin' who won.
But it don't storm at all... 'round here ... thanks to Paul.
He was ninety years old when he said with a sigh,
"I think I'm gonna lay right down and die
'Cause sunshine and sorrow, I've seen it all" ... says Paul.
He says, "There ain't no man alive can kill me.
Ain't no woman 'round can thrill me.
And I think heaven just might be a ball" ... says Paul.
So he died ... and we cried.
It took eighteen men just to bust the ground.
It took twenty-four more just to lower him down.
And we covered him up and we figured that was all... for Paul.
.iC
... .- yA
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But late one night the trees started shakin'. The dogs started howlin' and the earth started quakin',
And out of the ground with a "Hi, y'all" ... come Paul!
He shook the dirt from off of his clothes.
He scratched his butt and he wiped his nose.
"Y'know, bein' dead wasn't no fun at all" ... says Paul.
He says, "Up in heaven they got harps on their knees.
They got clouds and wings but they got no trees.
I don't think that's much of a heaven at all" ... says Paul.
So he jumps on his ox with a fare-thee-well.
He says, "I'll find out if they's trees in hell."
And he rode away, and that was all... we ever seen ... of Paul.
But the next time you hear a "Timber!" yell
That sounds like it's comin' from the pits of hell,
Then a weird and devilish ghostly wail
Like somebody choppin' on the devil's tail.
Then a shout, a call, a crash, a fall-
That ain't no mortal man at all... that's Paul!
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DANCING PANTS And now for the Dancing Pants,
Doing their fabulous dance.
From the seat to the pleat
They will bounce to the beat,
With no legs inside them
And no feet beneath.
They'll whirl, and twirl, and jiggle and prance.
So just start the music
And give them a chance-
Let's have a big hand for the wonderful, marvelous.
Super sensational, utterly fabulous.
Talented Dancing Pants!
127
I WON'T HATCH! Oh I am a chickie who lives in an egg.
But I will not hatch, I will not hatch.
The hens they all cackle, the roosters all beg,
But I will not hatch, I will not hatch.
For I hear all the talk of pollution and war
As the people all shout and the airplanes roar.
So I'm staying in here where it's safe and it's warm.
And I WILL NOT HATCH!
128
WITH HIS MOUTH FULL OF FOOD Milford Dupree, though he knew it was rude.
Talked with his mouth full of food.
He never would burp or walk out in the nude.
But he talked with his mouth full of food.
His mother said, "Milford, it's crude and it's lewd
To talk with your mouth full of food.
Why, even the milk cow who moo'd as she chewed
Never moo'd with her mouth full of food.
And the cuckoo would never have ever cuckoo'd
If he coo'd with his mouth full of food."
His dad said, "Get married or go get tattooed.
But don't talk with your mouth full of food.
If it was a crime, you would surely get sued
If you talked with your mouth full of food.
Why, just like an animal you should be zoo'd
As you talk with your mouth full of food.
For you know we're all put in a terrible mood
When you talk with your mouth full of food."
They pleaded and begged. He just giggled and chewed
And laughed with his mouth full of food.
And all they advised him he simply poo-poo'd,
He poo-poo'd with his mouth full of food.
So they sent for the gluer and had his mouth glued
'Cause he talked with his mouth full of food.
Now instead of "Good morning," he says "Gnu murnood,
I wun tuk win mny marf furu foog."
129
MY HOBBY When you spit from the twenty-sixth floor.
And it floats on the breeze to the ground,
Does it fall upon hats
Or on white Persian cats
Or on heads, with a pitty-pat sound?
I used to think life was a bore.
But I don't feel that way anymore.
As I count up the hits,
As I smile as I sit.
As I spit from the twenty-sixth floor.
INSTRUCTIONS
If you should ever choose
To bathe an armadillo,
Use one bar of soap
And a whole lot of hope
And seventy-two pads of Brillo.
130
THE WORST When singing songs of scariness.
Of bloodiness and hairyness,
I feel obligated at this moment to remind you
Of the most ferocious beast of all:
Three thousand pounds and nine feet tall-
The Glurpy Slurpy Skakagrall-
Who's standing right behind you.
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132
THE BAGPIPE WHO DIDN'T SAY NO It was nine o'clock at midnight at a quarter after three
When a turtle met a bagpipe on the shoreside by the sea.
And the turtle said, "My dearie.
May I sit with you? I'm weary."
And the bagpipe didn't say no.
Said the turtle to the bagpipe, "I have walked this lonely shore,
I have talked to waves and pebbles-but I've never loved before.
Will you marry me today, dear?
Is it 'No' you're going to say, dear?"
But the bagpipe didn't say no.
Said the turtle to his darling, "Please excuse me if I stare.
But you have the plaidest skin, dear.
And you have the strangest hair.
If I begged you pretty please, love.
Could I give you just one squeeze, love?"
And the bagpipe didn't say no.
Said the turtle to the bagpipe, "Ah, you love me. Then confess!
Let me whisper in your dainty ear and hold you to my chest."
And he cuddled her and teased her
And so lovingly he squeezed her.
And the bagpipe said, "Aaooga."
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Said the turtle to the bagpipe, "Did you honk or bray or neigh? For 'Aaooga' when you're kissed is such a heartless thing to say.
Is it that I have offended?
Is it that our love is ended?"
And the bagpipe didn't say no.
Said the turtle to the bagpipe, "Shall I leave you, darling wife?
Shall I waddle off to Woedom? Shall I crawl out of your life?
Shall I move, depart and go, dear-
Oh, I beg you tell me 'No,' dear!"
But the bagpipe didn't say no.
So the turtle crept off crying and he ne'er came back no more,
And he left the bagpipe lying on that smooth and sandy shore.
And some night when tide is low there.
Just walk up and say, "Hello, there,"
And politely ask the bagpipe if this story's really so.
I assure you, darling children, that the bagpipe won't say "No."
134
RUDY FELSH
Rudy Felsh
Knows how to belch
Better than anyone ever did.
Margo says that Rudy Felsh
Is a nasty vulgar kid.
Someday he will go to hell
Or jail or Canada, but now
Every night I pray that first
Rudy Felsh will show me how.
135
FRED? From out of the cold Caribbean
Into the Desert Libyan
There crawled a strange amphibian.
And we shall call him "Fred."
You say let's call him "Ted"?
Or maybe "Lou" or "Jed"?
But I want to call him "Fred"!
You like "Maurice" instead?
Or "Barnaby" or "Red"
Or "Lucifer" or "Ned"?
Well, anyway, he's dead.
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THE LONG-HAIRED BOY There was a boy in our town with long hair-
I mean really long hair-
And everybody pointed at him
And laughed at him
And made fun of him.
And when he walked down the street
The people would roar
And stick their tongues out
And make funny faces
And run in and slam their door
And shout at him from the window
Until he couldn't stand it anymore.
So he sat down and cried
Till his whole body shook.
And pretty soon his hair shook too.
And it flapped
And flapped-
And he lifted-
And flew-
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Straight up in the air like a helicopter. Jenny Ricks saw him and dropped her
Knitting and screamed, "It's a flying kid!"
Lukey Hastings ran and hid
Under Old Man Merrill's car.
Miss Terance fainted, Henry Quist
Tried to shoot him down, but missed-
"I thought he was a crow," he said.
And 'round he sailed all through the day.
Smiling in the strangest way,
With the wind in his hair
And the sun in his eyes.
We saw him swoop and bank and rise.
He brushed the treetop