Read Where The Sidewalk Ends Online

Authors: Shel Silverstein

Tags: #Young Adult, #Humor, #Classic, #Poetry, #Fantasy, #Children

Where The Sidewalk Ends (4 page)

BOOK: Where The Sidewalk Ends
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LAZY
JANE

Lazy

lazy

lazy

lazy

lazy

lazy

Jane,

she

wants

a

drink

of

water

so

she

waits

and

waits

and

waits

and

waits

and

waits

for

it

to rain.

THE
EDGE
OF
THE
WORLD

Columbus said the world is round?

Don’t you believe a word of that.

For I’ve been down to the edge of the world.

Sat on the edge where the wild wind whirled.

Peeked over the ledge where the blue smoke curls,

And I can tell you, boys and girls,

The world is FLAT!

SANTA
AND
THE
REINDEER

“This is the hour,” said Santa Claus,

“The bells ring merrily.”

Then on his back he slung his pack.

And into his sleigh climbed he.

“On, Dancer! On, Prancer! On, Donner and Blitzen!

On, Comet and Cupid!” cried he.

And all the reindeers leaped but one.

And that one stood silently.

He had pulled the sleigh for a thousand years.

And never a word spoke he.

Now he stood in the snow, and he whispered low-

“Oh what do you have for me?”

“I have games and toys for girls and boys,”

Said Santa cheerily.

The reindeer stood as if made of wood-

“But what do you have for me?”

“The socks are hung, the bells are rung!”

Cried Santa desperately.

The reindeer winked at a falling star-

“But what do you have for me?”

Then Santa reached into his beard.

And he found a tiny flea.

And he put it into the reindeer’s ear,

And the reindeer said, “For me? Oh gee!”

And into the blue away they flew,

Away they flew with the flea.

And the moral of this yuletide tale

You know as well as me.

THE
TOUCAN

Tell me who can

Catch a toucan?

Lou can.

Just how few can

Ride the toucan?

Two can.

What kind of goo can

Stick you to the toucan?

Glue can.

Who can write some

More about the toucan?

You can!

THE
PLANET
OF
MARS

On the planet of Mars

They have clothes just like ours.

And they have the same shoes and same laces.

And they have the same charms and same graces.

And they have the same heads and same faces…

But not in the

Very same

Places.

LOVE

Ricky was “L” but he’s home with the flu,

Lizzie, our “O,” had some homework to do,

Mitchell, “E” prob’ly got lost on the way.

So I’m all of love that could make it today.

THE
DIRTIEST
MAN
IN
THE
WORLD

Oh I’m Dirty Dan, the world’s dirtiest man,

I never have taken a shower.

I can’t see my shirt-it’s so covered with dirt,

And my ears have enough to grow flowers.

But the water is either a little too hot.

Or else it’s a little too cold.

I’m musty and dusty and patchy and scratchy

And mangy and covered with mold.

But the water is always a little too hot.

Or else it’s a little too cold.

I live in a pen with five hogs and a hen

And three squizzly lizards who creep in

My bed, and they itch as I squirm, and I twitch

In the cruddy old sheets that I sleep in.

If you looked down my throat with a flashlight, you’d note

That my insides are coated with rust.

I creak when I walk and I squeak when I talk.

And each time I sneeze I blow dust.

The thought of a towel and some soap makes me howl.

And when people have something to tell me

They don’t come and tell it-they stand back and yell it.

I think they’re afraid they might smell me.

The bedbugs that leap on me sing me to sleep.

And the garbage flies buzz me awake.

They’re the best friends I’ve found and I fear they might drown

So I never go too near a lake.

Each evening at nine I sit down to dine

With the termites who live in my chair.

And I joke with the bats and have intimate chats

With the cooties who crawl through my hair.

I’d brighten my life if I just found a wife.

But I fear that that never will be

Until I can find a girl, gentle and kind.

With a beautiful face and a sensitive mind.

Who sparkles and twinkles and glistens and shines-

And who’s almost as dirty as me.

POINT
OF
VIEW

Thanksgiving dinner’s sad and thankless

Christmas dinner’s dark and blue

When you stop and try to see it

From the turkey’s point of view.

Sunday dinner isn’t sunny

Easter feasts are just bad luck

When you see it from the viewpoint

Of a chicken or a duck.

Oh how I once loved tuna salad

Pork and lobsters, lamb chops too

Till I stopped and looked at dinner

From the dinner’s point of view.

MAGICAL
ERASER

She wouldn’t believe

This pencil has

A magical eraser.

She said I was a silly moo,

She said I was a liar too,

She dared me prove that it was true,

And so what could I do-

I erased her!

SPAGHETTI

Spaghetti, spaghetti, all over the place,

Up to my elbows-up to my face.

Over the carpet and under the chairs.

Into the hammock and wound round the stairs,

Filling the bathtub and covering the desk,

Making the sofa a mad mushy mess.

The party is ruined, I’m terribly worried,

The guests have all left (unless they’re all buried).

I told them, “Bring presents.” I said, “Throw confetti.’

I guess they heard wrong

‘Cause they all threw spaghetti!

HELPING

Agatha Fry, she made a pie.

And Christopher John helped bake it.

Christopher John, he mowed the lawn.

And Agatha Fry helped rake it.

Zachary Zugg took out the rug,

And Jennifer Joy helped shake it.

And Jennifer Joy, she made a toy.

And Zachary Zugg helped break it.

And some kind of help

Is the kind of help

That helping’s all about.

And some kind of help

Is the kind of help

We all can do without.

IF I
HAD
A
BRONTOSAURUS

If I had a brontosaurus,

I would name him Horace or Morris.

But if suddenly one day he had

A lot of little brontosauri-

I would change his name

To Laurie.

BENJAMIN
BUNNN

Poor Benjamin Bunnn,

From Wilmington,

His buttons will not come undone.

He hasn’t changed his clothes since last July.

And why?

‘Cause no one can unbutton him

No matter how they try, poor guy.

And all that he can take off are his socks and shoes and tie,

And all that he can do is sit and bite his tongue and cry.

And he cannot take a bath-so just lets the water run.

And he can’t go to the toilet, and he can’t get any sun,

And life just isn’t any fun

For Benjamin Bunnn, from Wilmington,

Whose buttons will not come undone.

THE
BATTLE

Would you like to hear

Of the terrible night

When I bravely fought the-

No?

All right.

MINNOW
MINNIE

May I ask you if you’ve noticed,

May I ask you if you’ve seen

My minnow Minnie

Who was swimmin’

In your Ovaltine?

For you’ve gone and drunk it up, dear.

And she isn’t in the cup, dear.

And she’s nowhere to be found, dear.

Do you think that she has drowned, dear?

THE
RAZOR-TAILED
WREN

The razor-tailed wren.

He’ll pretend he’s your friend

As he cuts all the grass on your lawn.

But do not leave anything

Sticking far out

Or swishity-it will be gone.

PLEASE

DO
NOT

MAKE
F

UN OF

ME AN

D
PLEAS

E
DON’T

LAUGH

IT
ISN’T

EASY
T

O
WRIT

E A PO

EM ON

THE
NE

CK OF

A
RUN

NING

GIRA

FFE
.

THE
BLOATH

In the undergrowth

There dwells a Bloath

Who feeds upon poets and tea.

Luckily, I know this about him

While he knows almost nothing of me!

THE
YIPIYUK

In the swamplands long ago,

Where the weeds and mudglumps grow,

A Yipiyuk bit on my toe …

Exactly why I do not know.

I kicked and cried

And hollered “Oh”-

The Yipiyuk would not let go.

I whispered to him soft and low-

The Yipiyuk would not let go.

I shouted “Stop,” “Desist” and “Whoa”-

The Yipiyuk would not let go.

Yes, that was sixteen years ago.

And the Yipiyuk still won’t let go.

The snow may fall.

The winds may blow-

The Yipiyuk will not let go.

The snow may melt.

The grass may grow-

The Yipiyuk will not let go.

I drag him ‘round each place I go.

This Yipiyuk that won’t let go.

And now my child at last you know

Exactly why I walk so slow.

WHAT’S
IN
THE
SACK?

What’s in the sack? What’s in the sack?

Is it some mushrooms or is it the moon?

Is it love letters or downy goosefeathers?

Or maybe the world’s most enormous balloon?

What’s in the sack? That’s all they ask me.

Could it be popcorn or marbles or books?

Is it two years’ worth of your dirty laundry,

Or the biggest ol’ meatball that’s ever been cooked?

Does anyone ask me, “Hey, when is your birthday?”

“Can you play Monopoly?” “Do you like beans?”

“What is the capital of Yugoslavia?”

Or “Who embroidered that rose on your jeans?”

No, what’s in the sack? That’s all they care about.

Is it a rock or a rolled-up giraffe?

Is it pickles or nickels or busted bicycles?

And if we guess it, will you give us half?

Do they ask where I’ve been, or how long I’ll be stayin’.

Where I’ll be goin’, or when I’ll be back.

Or “How do?” or “What’s new?” or “Hey, why are you blue?”

No, all they keep asking is, “What’s in the sack?”

“What’s in the sack?” I’m blowin’ my stack

At the next one who asks me, “What’s in the sack?”

What?

Oh no. Not you, too!

WON’T
YOU?

Barbara’s eyes are blue as azure

But she is in love with Freddy,

Karen’s sweet but Harry has her,

Gentle Jane is going steady.

Carol hates me, so does May,

Abigail will not be mine,

Nancy lives too far away …

Won’t you be my Valentine?

ALICE

She drank from a bottle called
DRINK
ME

And up she grew so tall.

She ate from a plate called
TASTE
ME

And down she shrank so small.

And so she changed, while other folks

Never tried nothin’ at all.

SHADOW
WASH

I’ve never washed my shadow out

In all the time I’ve had it.

It was absolutely filthy I supposed.

And so today I peeled it off

The wall where it was leaning

And stuck it in the washtub

With the clothes.

I put in soap and bleach and stuff,

I let it soak for hours,

I wrung it out and hung it out to dry.

And whoever would have thunk

That it would have gone and shrunk

For now it’s so much

Littler than I.

RECIPE
FOR
A
HIPPOPOTAMUS
SANDWICH

A hippo sandwich is easy to make.

All you do is simply take

One slice of bread,

One slice of cake,

Some mayonnaise.

One onion ring.

One hippopotamus.

One piece of string,

A dash of pepper-

That ought to do it.

And now comes the problem …

Biting into it!

EIGHTEEN
FLAVORS

Eighteen luscious, scrumptious flavors-

Chocolate, lime and cherry.

Coffee, pumpkin, fudge-banana,

Caramel cream and boysenberry.

Rocky road and toasted almond,

Butterscotch, vanilla dip.

Butter-brickle, apple ripple.

Coconut and mocha chip.

Brandy peach and lemon custard,

Each scoop lovely, smooth, and round.

Tallest ice-cream cone in town.

Lying there (sniff) on the ground.

POOR
ANGUS

Oh what do you do, poor Angus,

BOOK: Where The Sidewalk Ends
5.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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