
I Let My Dog Write This Poem
MMMM-woof!
Smell that? Definitely Cat poop.
I love that smell.
And what’s that smell over there?
I mean right there!
Quit pulling on my leash! I have to smell it!
Ahh! Bird poop from a pigeon with a fatal disease.
And over there! Yes, stop holding me back!
Oh! A dead bird! Yum! Icky dead things taste great!
But it was a pigeon.
MMM-woof? Can dogs get pigeon diseases?

Why on Earth Did I Turn into a Nudist?
It is so embarrassing to admit it
I have no clothes to fit it
That feel as good as going bare
And wearing not even underwear
And the wind and the sun on my naked skin
Open my heart and let the sunshine in
I’ve never really felt so alive
As I feel while talking the naturist jive
And living life as a naked man
And doing the things that Adam can
How can it be such a stupid thing?
That makes my heart to dance and sing?

Thar Be Pirates, Yaaar!
The Pirates o’ Bank o’ Merricka has stabbed me wallet
And make thar monies by stealin’
And whooda thunk it? But the Pirates be many blokes
Who sells insurance or credick-card akkounts
And compounds the fie!-nance charges
At twelvety-hunnert thousing per cent
And makes thar monies the ol’ fashioned way
By hooks and by crooks but mosty by stealin’

And so… There you have it. Three poems about things that recently made sanity a bit harder to define when looking in the old mirror. I am not saying I have gone insane, but I do think I may be on the right road to go over the hill and around a couple curves to find the place where you have to go to find it.
















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Holy Bagumba!
I have just finished reading a wonderful book. It is a young adult novel bordering on being a children’s book. It won the 2014 Newbery Medal for best work of children’s literature. But it is a book of so many dimensions that it totally defies categories. Librarians with butterfly nets who want to pin this book down on their library shelves will be pointlessly waving their nets at it like they believe it’s a butterfly, but it will soar away from them like an eagle.
Flora & Ulysses (the Illuminated Adventures) is a combination book of many different things. G. K. Cambell’s cartoony paffoonies add to and amplify the story to the point that sometimes it becomes a graphic novel.
Flora herself is a comic-book lover and follower of the adventures of a comic-book superhero named Incandesto. Ulysses the squirrel is run over by a rogue vacuum cleaner and the accident graces him with super powers (the ability to fly and throw cats and write poetry). And Flora rescues and befriends this newly minted superhero and sets him on a path that pits him against the only super-villain available, Flora’s own mother.
At certain points, through metaphor, elegance, and supreme focus, the story itself becomes poetry. But, of course, when the poem ends with a line about the squirrel being hungry, it becomes humorous poetry, simply by the juxtaposition of the sublime with the ridiculous.
As a writer, Kate DiCamillo is a master of everything I want to be. She is as much a masterful story-teller as Mark Twain, Ernest Hemingway, or William Faulkner. But many people will be put off by the fact that she is a children’s author. They will ignore her stories because how could a children’s author affect their lives in any way? But if you are a reader who can think and feel about things in a book, she will make you laugh and make you cry and make you not afraid to die… for love of a good book.
Let me also suggest a few of her other wonderful, wonderful books;
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Filed under book reports, book review, commentary, good books, humor, metaphor, poetry, reading
Tagged as book review, Flora & Ulysses, Kate DiCamillo