Monday, February 2, 2009

Silent Poetry

Here in Blogland, on February 2nd, it is customary to post a poem in honor of the patron saint somebody of poetry. In my entire life, I have only ever committed one poem to memory. Here goes:

There's too many kids in this tub
There's too many elbows to scrub
I just washed a behind that I'm sure wasn't mine
There's too many kids in this tub.

Thank you Shel Silverstein. These words have been rolling around in my head for many years and I actually find it strange how many times I call upon them to entertain me when I should be thinking of something important. And please excuse my lack of a photo in this post. Anything appropriate may cause the FBI to show up at my door.


  1. I think you just infringed a copyright.

  2. Am I going to jail?
    I have done worse things.

  3. Please be careful, if you get sent to the big house who will finish my sister in law's smoke rings? As cold as it's been, I have absolutely loved mine for my morning walks with Lilly. It's funny how attached I've become to that thing.