The aliens have landed!
It’s distressing, but they’re here.
They piloted their flying saucer
through our atmosphere.
They landed like a meteor
engulfed in smoke and flame.
Then out they climbed immersed in slime
and burbled as they came.
Their hands are greasy tentacles.
Their heads are weird machines.
Their bodies look like cauliflower
and smell like dead sardines.
Their blood is liquid helium.
Their eyes are made of granite.
Their breath exudes the stench of foods
from some unearthly planet.
And if you want to see these
sickly, unattractive creatures,
you’ll find them working in your school;
they all got jobs as teachers!
My father looks like Frankenstein,
my mom looks like Godzilla,
my brother looks like Dracula,
my sister, Vampirella.
My family is the scariest
in this entire city.
I really can’t explain how I
turned out to be so pretty.
We’re dragons of leisure.
with time on our hands
to travel and visit
our neighboring lands.
For traveling truly
is what we enjoy.
We’ll cross the Aegean
to traipse around Troy.
We’ll fly to Phoenicia
to take in the sights.
In Persia we’ll pass the
We’ll sightsee in Cyprus.
We’ll cruise around Crete,
then make it to Malta
for something to eat.
We’ll ramble through Rhodes
buying quaint souvenirs.
We’ll go explore Egypt
or tramp through Tangiers.
Of all of the places
we’ve traveled and seen,
our favorite is Italy,
verdant and green.
Whenever we go there
we feel right at home.
Believe us, it’s true:
there is no place like Rome.
I met a sphinx of stature
at a crossing in the road.
She said, “You’re looking tired.
Won’t you let me take your load?
“Please join me for a cup of tea.
We’ll sit a while and talk.
Come rest your weary feet
before continuing your walk.”
She showed me to her home
and quite insisted that I stay.
She said, “Tomorrow morning
I will see you on your way.”
That sphinx was kind and gracious,
so well-mannered and polite.
She brought me bread and olives
to assuage my appetite.
She brought a jug of nectar
and a pillow for my head,
and as the constellations rose
she tucked me into bed.
When morning came she packed my bag
and saw me to the road
and thanked me for my visit
to her humble sphinx abode.
I’ve often heard that sphinxes
try to menace and harass
the wanderers who come their way
and simply want to pass.
But Sphinxes are hospitable
as far as I can tell.
Of course, that could be just because
I am a sphinx as well.
There’s a dragon on the playground
who descended from the skies.
He swooped down on the schoolyard
where he took us by surprise.
He leapt across the blacktop
in a single bounding stride,
erupting flames and lava
to incinerate the slide.
He reared his huge and scaly head
and flapped his leathery wings,
then set the soccer field ablaze
and blackened all the swings.
He cauterized the asphalt
with a sudden, fiery flash.
Then reeled upon the seesaw
and converted it to ash.
He melted all the monkey bars.
The sand was molten glass.
With nothing left to liquefy
he headed for our class.
I doubt we’ll soon be rid of him
despite the fires he’s set.
You see, our teacher likes him,
so he’s now the teacher’s pet.
The minotaur hums as he strums on his lute
which he strums with his thumbs as he hums.
And sometimes he drums with his boot as he toots
when he toots on a flute as he drums.
And humbly he’ll hum as he drums with his boot
Or he’ll strum on his lute as he drums.
But strumming won’t come for his thumbs if he toots
and he truly can’t toot when he hums.
I was bitten by a werewolf
with a weak, half-hearted bite,
and became a half a werewolf;
on my left, but not my right.
So now when the moon is halfway full,
my face grows halfway hairy.
And my left-hand claws and single fang
are surely semi-scary.
Now I nearly need to stay up late.
I partly want to prowl.
I’ve been feeling fairly frisky.
I have half a mind to howl.
If you ever see me coming
you should turn and run away,
for the odds are fifty-fifty
you’ll regret it if you stay.
Yes, I may be half a werewolf,
with my fleas and doggy breath,
but I promise, if you meet me,
I will scare you half to death.
Industrious and underfed,
the addlepated Glundersnedd
resides inside, beneath your bed
and waits for dusky dark to spread.
He waits until your lights are out
to leave his roost and snoop about,
then snuffles with his snarkly snout
in search of salty sauerkraut.
For pickled cabbage, steamed or stewed,
or baked or boiled or barbecued
is pretty much his favorite food
and puts him in a merry mood.
But if he snuffles all around
and makes that snarkly snorting sound
within the drawers and on the ground,
and sauerkraut cannot be found
The addlepated Glundersnedd
industrious and underfed
harumph-a-lumps right back to bed
to snack on girls and boys instead.
Of all the things that he’ll ingest
from north or south or east or west
as you already may have guessed
he fancies children second best.
So if you plan to keep your head
then please remember what I said:
to feed the dreaded Glundersnedd
keep sauerkraut beside your bed!
When a giant has a haircut
it’s a massive enterprise
due completely to the giant’s
quite considerable size.
To begin an undertaking
of such monumental scope
first the barber needs a scaffold
and a thousand yards of rope.
He’ll need leather gloves and work boots.
He’ll need garbage cans and rakes,
plus a parachute and safety net
in case the giant shakes.
He’ll ascend by helicopter
to the giant’s lofty dome,
with a pair of swords for scissors
and a pitchfork for a comb.
Then for weeks and weeks he’ll labor;
he will cleave and slice and hack.
He will chop and saw and sever
like a raving lumberjack.
Turning forests into wastelands
slashing tangles everywhere,
you may hear him yelling “TIMBER”
as he’s felling strands of hair.
When at last the barber’s finished
then it fills his heart with sorrow
when the giant says, “My hair grows fast;
I’ll come again tomorrow.”
My breakfast never varies;
it’s the same thing every day.
And lunch and dinner likewise
make me yawn and turn away.
I’m craving something different.
I’m in need of something new.
Some pickles, some lasagna,
or a chocolate cake or two.
I’d like a dozen pizzas
and some carry-out Chinese,
a turkey, ham and pot roast
with potatoes, pies and peas.
I want a bag of burgers,
and a barrel full of rice.
I’ll wash it down with twenty quarts
of soda pop on ice.
My taste buds need variety
to pass between my lips.
No more of just the same old thing!
I’m sick of fish and ships.