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Dr. Seuss: A Tribute
My stomach clenched
when she said:
“Write a poem!”
A talent I do not possess.
I miss the days
of crayons and naps—
to there I wish to regress.
Mr. Poe and Pound
overtake my mind
with poems I must now compete.
Confusing couplets and stanzas
cause me to sweat
and fidget
and flail
in my seat.
Dr. Seuss
was most profound of them all
with his rhymes of
C A T with H A T
If I wrote that now,
and handed it in,
I would get back a fifty
…if that.
I sit there and realize
my life is cliché
and that a poem about it
would fail.
I begin to write
about what’s on my mind,
but discover my thoughts to be stale.
I try to imagine
a happier time
when Mother Goose brought me to bed.
Upon scribbling a verse,
I throw up my hands
and I meet the wood desk
with my head.
My teacher comes over
and asks me,
“what’s wrong?”
And I say,
“oh nothing, ma’am.”
She looks down at my paper
and in big bold letters is:
I DON’T LIKE GREEN EGGS AND HAM!
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