That means “easy.”
I don’t find it
quite so breezy.
Divide a fraction.
Still more Testing.
Not much recess.
Not much resting.
I complained but
no one listened.
they babble night and day.
They talk about computers,
though they’ve nothing much to say.
They gab about their gadgets
and the tech that’s in their toys.
I hear the words they’re speaking
but it simply sounds like noise.
They yak about their tablets
and they crow about their phones.
They talk about technology
that no one even owns.
They use the latest jargon
as they jabber on and on.
I’m baffled by their yammering.
It makes me want to yawn.
I’m sure they’re saying something
as they gabble on with glee,
but I can’t understand a word.
It’s all just Geek to me.
The man called Mr. Mirror
is a most peculiar guy.
He looks a bit like everyone,
though no one quite knows why.
Mr. Mirror looks like you.
He also looks like me.
When anybody looks at him,
it’s just themselves they see.
The President will tell you
Mr. Mirror looks like him.
My Uncle Jim is certain
he resembles Uncle Jim.
To people with a mustache
Mr. Mirror has one too.
He looks like people wearing hats
and those who never do.
He looks like someone five years old,
and someone ninety nine.
He looks like someone with a cold,
and someone feeling fine.
He looks like someone very short
and someone super tall.
but Mr. Mirror doesn’t look
like Dracula at all.
Betty met a yeti
in the mountains of Tibet.
She cooked him some spaghetti
and she baked him a baguette.
And when the food was ready
and the dishes all were set,
the yeti swallowed Betty
and said, “Mmmm. The best one yet.”
So that’s the end of Betty,
but you needn’t be upset
unless you meet a yeti
in the mountains of Tibet.
Then just stay calm and steady.
Don’t be nervous. Never fret.
And don’t cook him spaghetti
or, who knows what you might get?
A sheep is asleep on my sofa.
A sheep is asleep on my floor.
A sheep is asleep in the closet,
and seems to be starting to snore.
A sheep is asleep on my dresser.
A sheep is asleep on my bed.
I found when I woke up this morning,
a sheep was asleep on my head.
A few can be found in the corner.
They’re soundly asleep in a heap.
There isn’t a space in my bedroom
that isn’t all covered in sheep.
With so many sheep in my bedroom,
I’m thinking I wasn’t too bright,
and maybe I shouldn’t have asked for
a sheepover party last night.
My mouse is misbehaving
and my keyboard’s on the fritz.
The computer’s not computing,
but is dropping bytes and bits.
The hard drive’s click-click-clicking
and the printer’s spitting ink.
The CD’s started stuttering.
The screen is on the blink.
The memory is failing.
Things are grinding to a halt.
And, even worse, I realize
it’s probably my fault.
I thought it would be funny.
It was really just a joke.
I never thought the whole computer
might go up in smoke.
I guess I learned my lesson:
When it comes to your PCs,
it’s best if you don’t ever try
to feed the mouse some cheese.
Hello, I’m Mr. Obvious.
I point out things you know.
I’ll tell you that the water’s wet.
I’ll say that plants can grow.
I might remark that night is dark.
I’ll add that grass is green.
And I’ll repeat that sugar’s sweet
and washing makes you clean.
I’ll let you know that snails are slow,
and one plus one is two,
and then declare that squares are square
and state the sky is blue.
You see, I’m kind, so I don’t mind
explaining simple things.
And when I do this just for you
I love the joy it brings.
So take a chair and let me share,
and when my lecture ends,
I hope you’ll try to tell me why
I don’t have any friends.
December I went shopping
for presents for my friends.
I bought a bunch of knickknacks
and a lot of odds and ends.
I picked the kinds of presents
that everyone enjoys:
Computer games and candy
and a wagon-load of toys.
I brought them home and wrapped them.
I placed them near the tree,
but liked them all so much
that I unwrapped them just for me.
Would it be wrong to keep them?
I guess it just depends.
Can someone loan me money
to go shopping for my friends?
Before I go to sleep each night
I first remove my head,
and set it gently down upon
the nightstand by my bed.
And every morning when I wake,
I stretch my arms and yawn,
then pick my head up carefully
and put it right back on.
I put my head on backward
when I woke up yesterday,
and, every time I turned my head,
I looked the other way.
I started walking into walls
and falling down the stairs.
I stumbled into tables
and I tumbled over chairs.
Today is looking even worse;
I woke up in my bed
and felt around my nightstand
but I couldn’t find my head.
I hope I find it shortly.
I’d be sad if it were gone.
From now on when I go to bed
I think I’ll leave it on.
The three of us are widely known.
We’re each a horrid, haggard crone.
We croak and cry a mournful moan.
A glance at us, you’ll turn to stone.
Our hair is made of living snakes.
To hear their hiss will give you shakes.
We love the savage sound it makes.
We’ll laugh until your spirit breaks.
But solitude is all we crave,
So don’t intrude within our cave.
Regardless if you’re strong or brave,
We’ll send you swiftly to your grave.
As we draw near, your heart will thud.
Your breath with stop, your brain will flood.
Our wicked wail will chill your blood,
And cause your veins to fill with mud.
And if there is the slightest breeze,
Our stench will make you choke and wheeze.
You’ll gasp and tumble to your knees.
We smell like Gorgon-zola cheese.