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Southern Exposure is a poem that makes light of the most terrifying thing faced by the fashion conscious hospital patient, the hospital gown. I’m six foot six, the hospital gown is made for someone less than five feet tall. It is the only piece of clothing, that I know of, for which they have to post charts on dressing room walls showing you how to put one on. The manufacturer has been able to cut production costs by using just enough material to come within three inches of meeting in the back, that’s if you’re on the thin side. When you stay at a nice hotel, you often hear the manager complain about people liking their hotel furnished robes so well that they forget and pack them in their suitcases. Have you ever heard of anyone stealing a hospital gown?
Southern Exposure
Hospitals are depressing,
They have that certain smell.
I never like to go there,
Especially when I’m well.
I would also have to say,
They won’t be my first pick,
Of where I want to visit
Even when I’m feeling sick.
What I really hate the most
Is not Doc’s probing hand.
It’s not my system shutdown,
When my skin meets cold bedpan.
Shots, and probes, and awful food,
Of these I seldom care.
It’s those stupid little gowns
That the nurses make me wear!
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Aili
(For my granddaughter Aili Noel)
She swung, and swung, and swung so high
Until her silly swing broke loose.
She went so high up in the sky
She met a migrating goose.
The goose was on his way down south
And she was going that way too.
So on, and on, and on down south
The goose, his friends and she all flew.
So if you’ve watched geese going south
And if you’ve heard their mournful cry,
It’s just the sound of a little girl
Who swung, and swung, and swung too high.
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Head Hunter
Saturday night I lost my head
When I had a terrible fight.
I would have won the silly brawl
But I completely lost my sight.
I couldn’t hear just where he was
And so he beat me black and blue.
My ears were on my head, of course,
It seems that I had lost them too.
I should have called the whole thing off
But then my luck had all gone south.
I couldn’t say a single word
‘Cause with my head, I’d lost my mouth.
The whole thing has me so upset,
I think it’s driving me insane!
Of course that’s quite impossible
Unless, of course, I find my brain.
I hunted for my stupid head
Until I thought I’d found a match.
If you are going to lose your head,
Don’t do it in a pumpkin patch!
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Show and Tell
The teacher said to her class,
“For next Friday’s Show-and-Tell,
Bring something from your heritage
That depicts your faith as well.”
“This is my prayer rug,”
Said the little Muslim boy.
“I kneel on it when I pray
So it isn’t just a toy.”
“This is the Star of David,
It protects our crops and cattle,”
Said the little Jewish boy,
“It leads us into battle.”
Then the little Catholic girl
Held up a string of beads.
“We count on the rosary
When we tell God our needs.”
The sweet Southern Baptist girl
Brought in a cooking pot.
“We call this a covered dish,
Our church uses it a lot!”
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Quack-Up
He was flying south for the winter.
Ducks don’t know how to back-up.
Too late he saw the TV tower.
He had an awful quack-up!
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The Wart On Grandpa’s Knee
There is a wart on Grandpa’s knee.
It has been there since half past three
And it is there for all to see,
The little wart on Grandpa’s knee.
When folks walk by they point with glee.
“There is a wart on Grandpa’s knee.
Or maybe it’s a little flea
And not a wart on Grandpa’s knee.”
Grandpa says, “You just let it be,
I like the wart that’s on my knee.”
But I just laugh and say, “Tee hee,”
‘Cause I’m the wart on Grandpa’s knee!
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Art Exhibit
I am so excited,
You’re the first one to know.
Today I will open
My humongous art show.
I’ve been working for months,
Drawing pictures with care.
So, if you’re not busy,
Won’t you try to be there?
The pictures are all placed
So to best show my style.
There won’t be room for all
‘Cause I drew quite a pile.
The best one of the show
Is Green Alligator,
But they all look real nice
On Mom’s ‘fridgerator.
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Mangy Rat and Smarty Cat
Mangy Rat fought Smarty Cat
Over a hunk of cheese.
Mangy Rat did not know that
The cheese was full of bees.
Mangy Rat learned about that,
When he sat on the cheese.
Mangy Rat should not have sat,
I think he now believes.
So Mangy Rat told Smarty Cat
That he could have the cheese.
Smarty Cat said, “Okay Rat
But you can keep the bees!”
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Cartoon
I drew a picture of my friend,
so funny that it made me cry.
I guess he didn’t think it funny,
’cause he punched me in the eye.
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My Brother’s Part Animal
My new brother is part animal
And Mother thinks that I don’t know.
She said he’s wrinkly as a pup
And just as pink as a flamingo.
She told my Grandma on the phone
As if she thought that it was neat,
About his little sweet deer face
And that she loves his cute bear feet!
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Every parent with more than one child has experienced sibling rivalry. Toys are a child’s first possessions and they must be guarded diligently. Children realize early in life that the toys belonging to their siblings are more desirable than their own. They are willing to spend a large portion of their waking hours in an attempt to obtain those toys for their own play, while at the same time protecting their own toys from being borrowed.
Toys is a poem about this rivalry and the childhood envy with which we are all born. It should be noted that envy is not restricted to children, a little of it is carried with us throughout life.
Toys
Sister has the best toys,
She has so many more.
That’s ’cause she is oldest
I think she’s almost four.
Bubba’s toys are neatest,
I think they’re really cool.
They must stay in his crib
‘Cause that’s my Mommy’s rule.
I wish that I could talk.
Then someone would be told
That I need all new toys
‘Cause mine are getting old!
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Unstructable
Mom said my toy truck’s gar-unteed,
One hundred sixty three percent.
So I hit it with my hammer;
It didn’t even make a dent!
“Unstructable”, my mommy said.
Why would they make a toy like that?
I threw it ‘way up in the air,
And hit it with my loom-num bat.
The bat was old so I don’t care,
‘Cause it will still be lots of fun.
Now that the handle’s bent like that,
It makes a real neat make-bleeve gun.
It’s my favorite toy of all,
My gar-unteed unstructable truck.
I use it when I want to break
The other toys I can destruct.
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Copycat Friend
I have a very good best friend
Who likes to have the things I like,
My baseball glove, my wooden bat
My toys, my shoes, my pets, my bike.
It might not always be so good
To share in everything I do,
‘Cause yesterday I broke my arm
Today at school, he broke his too!
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Don’t Let the Bedbugs Bite
My mother said, as I crawled into bed,
“Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
I haven’t a clue of what I can do
But I’ll put up one heck of a fight!
Are bedbugs as big as a guinea pig?
Would they rather bite girls, or boys?
Do they wait in the dark with a knife and a fork
Or hide in the box with my toys?
Do they find it a treat to chew on my feet,
Or dine on my elbows and knees?
Or is it true that they bring a whole crew
To bite me wherever they please?
If I can catch one, it just might be fun
To put it on eBbay for sale;
Or it might be cool to take it to school
To use for my next show and tell.
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The Wizard at Our House
A wizard came to visit us
He told me that his name was Mark
He says he came here on the bus
He is a very selfish guest.
If irritation is his plan,
I think that he must be the best.
He likes to write things on my wall
And leave toys out to give Dad pain
When he walks barefoot down the hall.
He leaves the toilet seat upright
And never ever flushes it
Which makes mom scream out the night!
Dad says that wizards don’t exist
When I blame everything on Mark;
It makes him mad when I insist.
That he’s a wizard’s plain to see
‘Cause he’s cast spells on Mom and Dad
That makes them think that he is me.