The Thing I Am Is Everything

My sister says that she can sing, and that makes her a singer.
I chase her, singing, I’m a bee, and that makes me a stinger!
She hollers, You are just a thing!
I tell her, I agree.
The thing I am is everything. Why be just a bee?
She yells, Oh be a rocket ship and blast off to the moon!
I say, I went there yesterday. Why go again so soon?
She screams, Then be a lobster! Go live on the ocean floor!
I am. And every ocean, I explain. And every shore.
She screeches, Just be quiet Mr. Big-Pain-In-My-Rear!
I whisper, That’s impossible. I’m everything you hear.
Well silence is a thing, she says. And I scratch my head.
I guess I won’t be everything, but just some things instead.

Caramel Shoes

I made my shoes from caramel.
I thought they’d make my feet not smell
like feet.
But, phew, that sweet and sweaty smell
of sticky feet in caramel
is utterly disgusting and, whoa, it’s not discrete!
My one-time favorite caramel
is candy now I hate to smell…
Oh, tragedy! It’s candy that I never want to eat!
(But now my mouth begins to water when I smell my feet…)

My Unfriendly Neighbor

I have an unfriendly neighbor who
never says, “Fine,” to my “How do you do?”
Sometimes he answers by throwing a shoe.

He waters his sidewalk on cold winter days.
In summer he covers it with mayonnaise.
I prefer going less slippery ways.

His mouse-fur cap wiggles and squeaks
on the rare occasions that my neighbor speaks.
When I see it happen, I’m nervous for weeks.

My friends all agree it’s unusual that
he keeps a stingray instead of a welcome mat,
and instead of a doorbell the nose of a rat.

His house has vines all over each wall
with fingers that hang from the ends of them all.
One time they stole my best soccer ball!

His lawn used to be as green as farmland
until he replaced the grass with quicksand.
Now it’s light brown, and sort of bland.

Bees blow from the tail of the car that he drives.
These bees have stingers, but they feel like knives.
I run when he’s leaving, and when he arrives.

His chimney covered our street in thick smoke
the time his fireplace burned poison oak.
I saw him laugh as I scratched at his joke.

One Halloween I stood on the street
and screamed nervously at his house, “Trick or treat!”
He opened his door, and threw pickled pig’s feet!

I asked my Grandma for this advice…
“If I want to be friends, how can I break the ice?”
She said, “Oh sweetie. Not everyone’s nice.”

An Uncommon Cold

One time the sun caught a cold,
and complained, “Oh, I’m so old.
I’ve lived three billion years or more.”
The moon replied, “You’re just mature.”

The heat that blew on the breeze
of every unexpected sneeze
melted all the mountain snow,
which made the rivers overflow.

Lava snot ran in the sky,
and then the sun began to cry.
The raindrops were igniting wood
as the sun wept, “I don’t feel good!”

People gathered in a hurry.
Everyone was sick with worry.
They knew something must be done
to help cure their ailing sun!

Farmers came with celery,
onions, chickens and parsley.
Grandmothers brought cooking pots.
A rocket came with astronauts.

“Chicken Soup!” “It never fails!”
came the hopeful shouts and wails
as people filled the rocket ship
with soup for a sun-bound trip.

Though no one could say for sure
if chicken soup had been the cure
the sun got better very soon,
and then a sneeze came from the moon…

So Many Hairs

Even though Harriet had so much hair
she thought that each one deserved its own name.
Above her left ear, she started with Claire,
and promised, I won’t name two hairs the same!
Suzie, Stevie, Jonah, John, Lisa, Fran, Francine,
Frankie, Maximillian, Nadine, Sam, Tom, Evaline,
Herbert, Ralphie, Little Pete, Big Pete, Aaron, Peter,
Bonnie, Bobbie, Tony, Toby, Stacy, Tracy, Dieter.
She named hairs all afternoon, all evening and all night.
At dawn she was past her left ear, but still far from her right…
I think I'll shave my head, she said

at sunrise when she went to bed.

One Day My House

One day my house will be a tree,
one that’s not just tall, but wide
with room to build stairways inside.
Each branch will be a balcony.

Inside the branches I’ll keep things,
my soccer ball and clothes and bed,
all my toys and my dog Fred,
and on each branch a bird that sings.

The birds and I will be good friends.
They’ll try to teach me how to fly.
At night they’ll sing a lullaby,
and wake me up when the night ends.

Birds will bring me eggs for breakfast.
My tree will grow delicious fruits.
Root beer will flow in its roots,
and every sip will be the freshest.

Inside my tree, when it rains
it will sound like steady drumming.
I’ll join in with banjo strumming,
and sing songs about old trains.

I’ll hang a hammock at the top
and in it learn to smoke a pipe.
I’ll eat fruit that’s always ripe
and drink my fresh root beer nonstop.

That’s the house I’ll have one day
when finally I’m out of school
and I’ve outgrown my parents’ rule,
and all I have to do is rest and play…

Horror Right Outside the Door

The time I stepped on a slug with my bare foot was bad.
And although it made me hop and curse
what my good friend David did yesterday was worse.
He was taking out the trash
when he felt a bullfrog smash.
Worse than that, he said he felt it ooze…
Dave had gone out wearing socks without any shoes!
(And although it’s been denied,
David’s sister said he cried.)