Ants are always
Rises, rubbing raw:
Ants are always
Rises, rubbing raw:
The Doctor was well-known for his elixirs and his pills
And folks from far and wide would ask his help to cure their ills
For coughs and cuts and cracks and colds, for ear wax and gray hair
For “Too much yawning!” “Needs more toes!” or “How did that get there?”
He’d say, “One sec!” then he would check his shelves for quite a while
“Not that one, no” – he’d make a show – until he’d grasp a vial
“Yes, this one should suffice,” he’d say, then pack it with a letter
Which, when opened, only said, “Take these until you’re better.”
And many folks who took his cures indeed would get much stronger
The rest would read the note and say, “I guess I’ll take it longer.”
One day, a girl with broken nose, just finishing her visit
Looked at her vial, she tried to smile, but asked: “Please sir, what is it?”
The Doctor tipped his glasses down, and said, “I shouldn’t tell it.
Another doc may snatch it up, and he would try to sell it!
“But I took good luck pills today (they sell for just six gold!)
And given that, I know there’d be no danger if I told.
“So here’s the tale: when noses fail, I fill a jar with sneeze
Then stir in schnozzes, snouts, and trunks, and that’s how I make these.”
Back in the crowd, a woman cried out, “How can snot make you healthy?”
Said Doctor back, “Why don’t you ask how gold can make you wealthy?”
This satisfied them, till a man with bent teeth and jaw aches
Received his cure, but blurted: “Sir, what’s this that I’m to take?”
“Shark’s teeth, hound’s teeth, teeth that graced the mightiest of smiles
Are mashed on up with coconut, then boiled to fill your vial.”
The crowd gave a groan, folks said, “We all know – you don’t eat teeth to fix your grin!”
The Doctor said, “No? Well do you suppose you eat fat to make you thin?”
Again the crowd decided that the Doctor’s words were wise
Until another man approached, with groans and moans and sighs
“Please help,” he begged, “My belly hurts so much that I could cry!
My mother’s pot roast did me in – I’m worried I may die!”
The Doctor tapped his chin, then said, “Why, give me just a minute.”
The man paid for a bottle, but then had to ask: “What’s in it?”
“Your stomach rumbles like a stone, so this is full of rocks.
Your breath is foul, so I prescribe the essence of clean socks.
“You shake like jelly, so that’s in; you shiver, so there’s ice
Plus skin of frog and growl of dog, and mud to give it spice.”
The sick man cursed, “That’ll make me worse! No way I’m going to try it!”
The Doctor frowned, then smiled, then shrugged. “Well then, why did you buy it?”
[I wrote a poem to honor the first day of testing. Only right I should do one for the last day too. Shhh, don’t tell anyone I wrote this while “actively monitoring” today’s test…]
Weeks of testing, kids are bored
I thought if I gave them rewards
It might affect the scores they scored
But no rewards during the test
Could make them feel any less stressed
Or guide the guesses that they guessed
At least now, with the end at hand
And teachers freed from test demands
There’s actually plans we get to plan
Little Miss Muffet was acting the fool
Sitting on tuffets and eating her gruel
Me? I just came there to sit down and rest.
I’m hardly to blame if it made her distressed
Yes, ma’am, Bo Peep
Take a hike
Back when we feel like
Jack, I’m sorry if this sounds a little bit aggressive
But jumping over candlesticks is really not impressive
And furthermore I think that it is time you figured out
That sticking fingers into pies should not make you so proud
I wrate my friend a little note
But Spellcheck tells me that I “wrote”
I said “I broke a ruke at school”
But it swore that I broke a “rule”
I typed “my dorg eats like a hog”
But it thinks Fido is a “dog”
“It’s roining again!” I said, complaining
But Spellcheck insists that it is “raining”
I wrote about my new Groobrayk’n
But the Spellchecker tells me I’m just mistaken
That Spellcheck’s so sure that it’s fixing my errors
But maybe I speak with a different vocabularer
You’re buying a pet? That’s no trouble at all!
I can sell you a BIG pet or one that is small.
I can sell you a pet with sharp spikes, fangs, and claws
Or one that can pick up your child with its paws
Here’s my personal favorite, it’s seven feet tall
It’ll happily grind coffee beans in its jaws
Or perhaps you’d like something more useful than that
Like a blue salamander you wear as a hat
Or this purple chipmunk that glows when it roars
It makes a good nightlight (but careful — it snores).
Or — what’s that? You say that you wanted a cat?
I’m sorry, it seems like you’ve got the wrong store.
When I was a child, I just hadn’t a clue
What the reasons were for all the things grown-ups do
But now that I’m older, with ex-pe-ri-ence
I find some adult things make even less sense