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A shark is a pet
that you don’t want to get.
There is nothing less fun than a shark.
He doesn’t have fur.
He won’t cuddle or purr,
and he never takes walks in the park.
Instead he just stares
and intensely prepares,
as he circles and waits in the dark,
to nibble your nose
and your fingers and toes,
for his bite is much worse than his bark.
–Kenn Nesbitt
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My teacher said to calculate
3.141 times 8.
I threw my hand up instantly
and so, of course, she called on me.
She asked me, “What’s the answer, please?”
I’d figured this one out with ease.
I looked her squarely in the eye
and calmly answered, “Octopi!”
It took her half an hour to get it,
and then she gave me extra credit.
–Kenn Nesbitt
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The Bagel Bird, by all accounts,
is said to lunch on large amounts
of sticks and twigs and sand and stones
and plastic parts from broken phones.
He’ll nibble bits of copper wires
and rubber from discarded tires.
He’ll chomp on tops of cuckoo clocks
and swallow shorts and stinky socks.
He’ll chew your shoes and eat your hat.
He’ll bite your books and baseball bat.
He’ll stuff his lips with poker chips
and snack on sails from sailing ships
and gobble poles and bowling balls
and pick at bricks from fallen walls
and graze on grass and feed on weeds
and dine on twine and strings of beads.
But bagels… whether white or wheat,
or salted, savory, or sweet,
or topped with lox or luncheon meat,
are something he will never eat.
At least that’s what I’ve always heard
about the crazy Bagel Bird.
But I don’t mind because, you see,
that leaves more bagels just for me.
–Kenn Nesbitt
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My mother makes prickly pear pastries.
My mother makes prickly pear pies.
She’s known for her prickly pear donuts
and flavorful prickly pear fries.
She sometimes makes prickly pear muffins
or prickly pear cookies and cakes.
She likes making prickly pear pizzas
and prickly pear smoothies and shakes.
I’ll bet she could write a whole cookbook
with all kinds of prickly pear food.
I’m sure you’d have no trouble guessing
what every last page would include.
I might even like her concoctions,
and wouldn’t just snicker and scoff,
if once in a while she’d remember
to take all the prickly parts off.
–Kenn Nesbitt
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I’ll tell you of a man I knew
who claimed he came from Timbuktu.
He said, “I have the world to see!”
So off he went to Timbukthree.
Then Timbukfour and Timbukfive
were where he seemed to come alive.
He went to Timbuksix and -seven,
and Timbukeight, -nine, -ten, -eleven.
Then Timbuktwelve and -thirteen too,
he liked them more than Timbuktu.
The last I heard, he’s doing fine.
He lives in Timbukninetynine.
So, kids, if all you ever do
is take a trip to Timbuktu,
at least you’ll have a lot more fun
than staying home in Timbukone.
But if you have the world to see…
continue on to Timbukthree.
–Kenn Nesbitt
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I ran for the Chapstick mom keeps in her purse.
My lips were so chapped that they couldn’t feel worse!
I dug through her handbag and pulled it out quickly,
then sighed in relief as I smeared it on thickly.
I felt so much better I almost rejoiced.
My painful, dry lips were now mended and moist.
My dad burst out laughing. My mom looked amused.
Her Chapstick was lost. That was lipstick I’d used.
–Kenn Nesbitt
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Jack Prelutsky is the author of many, many colletions of poetry for children. His new book, I’ve Lost My Hippopotamus comes out today. I had a chance to speak with Jack about his career and his new book recently, and you can listen to that interview here.
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Belinda’s an expert at bathing.
She loves to swim laps in the tub.
She’s clever at cleaning her kneecaps
and giving her elbows a scrub.
She often makes beards out of bubbles,
then puts on a play with her toys.
She practices splashing and shouting
and filling the bathroom with noise.
She’s mastered the use of the loofa,
the sponge, and the body puff too.
She’s truly a wiz with a washcloth.
She’s skillful at using shampoo.
Belinda’s so good in the bathtub,
just ask her; she’ll probably say
she’s planning to grow up to be
a professional bathlete someday.
–Kenn Nesbitt
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My sweet old Auntie Gravity
bakes all the lightest cakes.
Her “Secret X” ingredient
is all it ever takes.
A single splash of Secret X
provides her pies a lift.
A smidgen more and suddenly
her doughnuts are adrift.
A pinch upon her pancakes
and they rise above the plate.
A dash will make her danishes
begin to levitate.
Her muffins start to hover
from the tiniest of specks.
Her bagels float and flutter
when she uses Secret X.
But, sadly, Auntie Gravity
is known to make mistakes,
and may have used a bit too much
in several pies and cakes.
She ate a plate of chocolate cake
and tried a slice of mince.
I miss my Auntie Gravity;
we haven’t seen her since.
–Kenn Nesbitt
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I bought a brand new pair of shoes.
You simply have to see.
They’re purple, pink, and pretty.
They’re as lovely as can be.
They’re topped with silver sparkles,
so they shimmer in the sun.
They’re awesome when I’m walking
and they’re stunning when I run.
The laces look like rainbows
and the backs have flashing lights.
The sides are lined with lightning bolts.
They’re such amazing sights.
But now my friends avoid me
when they see me on the street.
Indeed, my shoes are pretty
but they smell like stinky feet.
–Kenn Nesbitt
