What to Do With a Dinosaur
From the book Revenge of the Lunch Ladies
This morning a dinosaur tromped into school,
ferocious, atrocious, and dripping with drool.
He had to be practically twenty feet tall,
and banged around looking something to maul.
He stomped and he snorted, he bellowed and roared.
His head hit the ceiling and busted a board.
That beast was undoubtedly ready for lunch.
He snatched up a chair in his teeth with a crunch,
Then stopped for a moment and thoughtfully chewed;
it seems he had smelled cafeteria food.
He spit out the splinters and plowed down the hall,
his tail swinging wildly and smashing the wall.
He burst through the doors of the lunchroom to see
the lunch ladies clutching their hair nets to flee.
He found the lasagna and gobbled it up,
then lapped up the lemonade, cup after cup.
He ransacked the salad bar, plundered dessert,
then stiffened and yelped as if suddenly hurt.
He let out a howl as he clutched at his side,
then gave out a gasp and fell over and died.
So next time a dinosaur comes to your school,
I think you'd do well to remember this rule:
Get out of the way of his bad attitude
and make sure he eats cafeteria food.
Copyright © 2007 Kenn Nesbitt. All Rights Reserved.
This poem appears in the book
Revenge of the Lunch Ladies
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