Our teacher sings The Beatles.
She must know every song.
We ask her please to stop
but she just sings, “It Won’t Be Long.”
And then she croons like Elvis.
She clearly thinks it’s cool.
And if we beg her not to
she just belts out, “Don’t be Cruel.”
She then does Michael Jackson.
It drives us nearly mad.
We have to cover up our ears
because she’s singing, “Bad.”
She winds up with The Wiggles
or else a Barney song,
and, even worse, she tells us all
that we should sing along.
It’s all my fault she does this.
I feel like such a fool.
I wish I’d never brought
my karaoke box to school.
Benjamin plays bass guitar
completely out of tune.
Sarah sings while sucking from
a helium balloon.
Payton plays piano with her
elbows and her chin.
Brayden bangs on buckets
with a plastic bowling pin.
Nathan’s nose has two kazoos;
one sharp, the other flat.
Bailey sits on bagpipes
sounding like a screaming cat.
We play this way on purpose
with a sound no one can stand.
It’s fun to be the country’s most
annoying student band.
Halloween is nearly here.
I’ve got my costume planned.
It’s sure to be the most horrific
outfit in the land.
If you should see me coming
you may scream and hide your head.
My get-up will, I guarantee,
fill every heart with dread.
My costume may cause nightmares.
Yes, my mask may stop your heart.
You might just shriek and wet yourself,
then squeamishly depart.
And yet, I won’t be dressing as
you might expect me to.
I will not be a vampire
or ghost that hollers “boo!”
I won’t look like a werewolf
or a goblin or a ghoul,
or even like a slimy blob
of deadly, dripping drool.
I will not be a zombie
or some other horrid creature.
No, this year I’ll be much, much worse…
I’m dressing as a teacher.
Today I decided to make up a word,
like flonk, or scrandana, or hankly, or smurred.
My word will be useful and sound really cool;
a word like chindango, or fraskle, or spewl.
My friends and my teachers will all be impressed
to learn that I’ve made up a word like extrest,
or crondic, or crambly, or squantion, or squank.
Whenever they use it, it’s me that they’ll thank.
They’ll call me a genius and give me a prize,
repeating my word, be it shimble, or glize,
or frustice, or frongry, or frastamazoo,
You’ll see it on TV shows one of these days.
They’ll use it in movies. They’ll put it in plays.
They’ll shout it from rooftops! The headlines will read,
“This Kid Has Invented the Word that We Need!”
I’ll make up my word, and I’ll share it with you,
and you can tell people from here to Peru;
the old ones, the young ones, and those in between…
as soon as I figure out what it should mean.
My dog does my homework
at home every night.
He answers each question
and gets them all right.
There’s only one problem
with homework by Rover.
I can’t turn in work
that’s been slobbered all over.
It’s Friday the 13th tomorrow.
A black cat just leapt in my path.
I’m not superstitious, but this might
explain why I’m failing in math.
By chance I walked under a ladder
a teacher had placed by the wall.
In class my umbrella popped open,
and that’s why I tripped in the hall.
The salt spilled this morning at breakfast.
While walking I stepped on a crack.
I took off my shoes on the table.
It looks like my future is black.
This evening I busted a mirror
which means that the next seven years
are due to be filled with misfortune,
catastrophes, mishaps and tears.
With all the bad luck I’m confronting,
it seems that I’m probably cursed.
It may be the 13th tomorrow.
But Thursday the 12th is the worst.
I played a game.
I rode my bike.
I had a snack.
I took a hike.
I read a book.
I watched T.V.
I built a fort.
I climbed a tree.
I surfed the web.
I played guitar.
I caught a bug
inside a jar.
I called my friends.
I dug a hole.
I kicked a ball.
I scored a goal.
I had a swim.
I learned to skate.
I played with toys.
I stayed up late.
It’s fair to say
I do like school,
but even more, though,
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.
Mackenzie put a whoopie cushion
on the teacher’s chair.
Makayla told the teacher
that a bug was in her hair.
Alyssa brought an apple
with a purple gummy worm
and gave it to the teacher
just to see if she would squirm.
Elijah left a piece of plastic
dog doo on the floor,
and Vincent put some plastic vomit
in the teacher’s drawer.
Amanda put a goldfish
in the teacher’s drinking glass.
These April Fool’s Day pranks
are ones that you could use in class.
Before you go and try them, though,
there’s something I should mention:
The teacher wasn’t fooling
when she put us in detention.
This morning when foolish Fiona awoke
she looked at her mother, and said with a croak,
“I can’t go to school, so please write me a note
to tell them I’m home with a frog in my throat.”
Her mom wrote a note for the teacher that said
“My daughter is sick and she’s staying in bed.
She won’t be at school for the rest of the week.
She swallowed a polliwog down at the creek.”