I Hate Tomatoes

I hate tomatoes, both yellow and red.

If I got them at school, I would give them to Fred.

I like them in ketchup; I like them in soup,

But plain old tomatoes? I rather eat poop.

My parents, they like them; my brother does, too.

Instead of tomatoes, I’d rather eat glue.

I originally wrote this in the fourth grade, circa 1971-72. My teacher made me change the word “poop” to “goop.” I’ve changed it back.


Old Mrs. Biddle (or something like that)

There once was a woman named Old Mrs. Biddle.
She liked to cook tacos with bugs in the middle.
She cooked them in grease on an old, rusty griddle.
A typical dinner by Old Mrs. Biddle.

Several years ago, there was an ad in the newspaper – “Send us your poem, and we’ll evaluate it for FREE” (or something like that).  So, I spent almost five minutes writing this little ditty, and I sent it in.  A few weeks later, I received a letter telling me that my poem was so good, they wanted to publish it – for FREE.  And, I could purchase the book, for only $49.99 (plus shipping and handling).  So, I let them publish it.

After the book was published, I received a letter from the National Poet’s Hall of Fame (or some such organization) offering me a life-time membership – for only $49.99 (plus shipping and handling for the certificate).

A few months later, the National Poet’s Hall of Fame (or some such organization) sent me an exclusive offer to have my poem recorded as a country-western song by Jimmy-Joe Jones (or some such singer), all for the low price of only $49.99 (plus shipping and handling for the CD).

I guess I should have been a poet, but I didn’t know it. (Or, something like that.)