Fun With Play-Dough

She doesn’t need a bit of light

But visits in the dark of night

Regardless of how loud I weep

She takes my molars in my sleep

I cry and fuss and beg and barter

I don’t want your stupid quarter!

Who is this woman, what’s her beef

For taking those abandoned teef

My pillow is a danger zone

What’s next, a piece of collarbone?

A bit of hair? A chunk of skin?

Before too long she’ll do me in!

I’ll beat her first, I’ll trap her yet

I’ll put some poison near my bed

My next loose tooth I won’t conceal it,

And when she flies inside to steal it

I’ll hit her upside down the head

With her own broom until she’s dead.

Last night, a tiger came into my bed

He ate my fingers and my head

He broke my ankle and my chin

My chest is bruised, I hurt my shin

My eyesight went all out of whack

I lost my brains and cracked my back

My kidneys I can’t even feel

It was a terrible ordeal

It put my muscles in a lock

My hair turned white, I was in shock

My bum is one enormous blister

But…

He forgot to eat my sister

(If you see him,  ask him kindly to return

I’m sure he’s sad he missed her)

 (I)

I don’t care if you saved the receipt

I don’t care if they have bigger and better monkeys

I don’t care if they are running a special

(Two for the price of one)

I like it here

You will not take me back to the zoo.

 (II)

I don’t care if we saved the receipt

I don’t care if they have bigger and better monkeys

I don’t care if the are running a special

I will not take you back to the zoo.

(Two for the price of one? Really?)

I will probably, possibly, maybe, most likely not take you back to the zoo.

Don’t tell me about an old woman in a shoe

Don’t tell me about frogs that turn into princes

And don’t even get me started on that girl who choked on an apple

And her seven silly friends

Tell me

Something real instead

Tell me

How you found me in the cabbage patch

Tell me how it rained real cats and dogs

And how you had to fight off dragons

And elephants

And twenty-seven crazy policemen

In order to get me home

Tell me how you only fed me peaches

For the whole first year

And that’s why I am so sweet

Tell me something real instead

I don’t want to get up today

I’ll sleep until evening

Safe in my bed

And when, tonight, the city grows quiet

The cars stop riding

The lights are turned off

And no one is watching

I’ll wake up

And eat a slice of carrot cake

An egg

And maybe a herring.