Garbage Delight Read online

  Garbage Delight

  The poems

  were written by

  Dennis Lee

  The pictures

  were drawn by

  Frank Newfeld

  Dedication

  for Julian and for Hugh Kane

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Being Five

  The Moon

  Half Way Dressed

  Peter Was a Pilot

  Quintin and Griffin

  Bath Song

  Skindiver

  The Last Cry of the Damp Fly

  A Sasquatch from Saskatchewan

  Muffin and Puffin and Murphy and Me

  Worm

  The Aminals

  The Summerhill Fair

  McGonigle’s Tail

  The Swing

  Suzy Grew a Moustache

  Inspector Dogbone Gets His Man

  The Coming of Teddy Bears

  The Muddy Puddle

  Bigfoot

  Smelly Fred

  Goofy Song

  Bike-Twister

  The Big Blue Frog and the Dirty Flannel Dog

  I Eat Kids Yum Yum!

  Garbage Delight

  The Snuggle Bunny

  “What Will You Be?”

  The Operation

  The Fly-Nest

  The Tiniest Man in the Washing Machine

  Beat Me and Bite Me

  Periwinkle Pizza

  The Tickle Tiger

  The Pair of Pants

  One Sunny Summer’s Day

  The Big Molice Pan and the Bertie Dumb

  Bloody Bill

  The Bratty Brother (Sister)

  The Bedtime Concert

  Goofus

  The Secret Song

  About the Authors

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Being Five

  I’m not exactly big,

  And I’m not exactly little,

  But being Five is best of all

  Because it’s in the middle.

  A person likes to ride his bike

  Around the block a lot,

  And being Five is big enough

  And being Four is not.

  And then he likes to settle down

  And suck his thumb a bit,

  And being Five is small enough,

  But when you’re Six you quit.

  I’ve thought about it in my mind –

  Being Five, I mean –

  And why I like it best of all

  Is ’cause it’s In Between.

  The Moon

  I see the moon

  And the moon sees me

  And nobody sees

  As secretly

  Unless there’s a kid

  In Kalamazoo,

  Or Mexico,

  Or Timbuktu,

  Who looks in the sky

  At the end of a day,

  And he thinks of me

  In a friendly way –

  ’Cause we both lie still

  And we watch the moon;

  And we haven’t met yet

  But we might do, soon.

  Half Way Dressed

  I sometimes sit

  When I’m half way dressed,

  With my head in a sweater

  And I feel depressed.

  I’m half way out

  And I’m half way in

  And my head’s nearly through

  But the sweater’s gonna win,

  ’Cause the neck-hole grabs

  Like as if it’s glue,

  And my ears don’t like it,

  And my nose don’t, too,

  And I can’t stand sweaters

  When they grab this way,

  And they jump on a kid

  And decide to play.

  I’m half way dressed,

  And I’m half way dead,

  And I’m half way ready

  To crawl back to bed.

  Peter Was a Pilot

  Peter was a pilot,

  He flew a jumbo jet,

  He crashed in Lake Ontario

  And got his bottom wet.

  Quintin and Griffin

  Quintin’s sittin’ hittin’ Griffin,

  Griffin’s hittin’ Quintin too.

  If Quintin’s quittin’ hittin’ Griffin,

  What will Griffin sit ‘n’ do?

  Bath Song

  A biscuit, a basket, a bath in a hat,

  An elephant stuck in a tub:

  Seize her, and squeeze her, and see if she’s fat,

  And give her a rub-a-dub-dub.

  A biscuit, a basket, a bath in a hat,

  An elephant stuck in a spoon:

  Seize her, and squeeze her, and see if she’s fat,

  And give her a ride to the moon.

  Skindiver

  Wiggle your toenails

  And jiggle your toes:

  Skindiver’s coming

  To land on your nose.

  Wiggle your tummy

  And squiggle your tum:

  Skindiver’s coming

  To bounce on your bum.

  Wiggle your headlight

  And jiggle your head:

  Skindiver’s coming

  To tuck you to bed.

  The Last Cry of the Damp Fly

  Bitter batter boop!

  I’m swimming in your soup.

  Bitter batter bout:

  Kindly get me out!

  Bitter batter boon:

  Not upon your spoon!

  Bitter batter bum!

  Now I’m in your tum!

  A Sasquatch from Saskatchewan

  A sasquatch from Saskatchewan

  Is chasing me across the lawn.

  My friends are going to stare and grin

  When they observe the shape I’m in.

  Muffin and Puffin and Murphy and Me

  Muffin and Puffin and Murphy and me

  Went to Vancouver to swim in the sea.

  Muffin went swimming, and swallowed a shark

  Puffin saw whales in Stanley Park

  Murphy got lost and went bump in the dark

  And I had a strawberry soda.

  Muffin and Puffin and Murphy and me

  Came back from Vancouver, and back from the sea.

  Muffin is puffing from eating the shark

  Puffin is huffing from Stanley Park

  Murphy is frightened to sleep in the dark

  But I had a strawberry soda!

  Worm

  Some people think a worm is rude,

  ’Cause he’s mostly not in a talkative mood.

  And other people think he’s dumb,

  ’Cause he likes you to call, but he doesn’t come.

  But I’ve got a worm, and his name is Worm,

  And he lives in a jar with a bunch of germs,

  And Worm is as smart as a worm can be.

  I talk to him and he listens to me:

  I tell him the time I fell downstairs

  And I teach him the names of my teddy bears

  And we both sit still, and I hear the things

  That you hear when a worm begins to sing –

  About dirt in the yard, and tunnels, and drains,

  And having a bath in the grass when it rains.

  And we plan about snacks, and not washing your hands

  And the letter J. And he understands.

  The Aminals

  At night the aminals go marching

  Round and round the room.

  There’s Bigfoot, and McGonigle,

  And Hannah V. Varoom.

  And round they march and round they march

  And halt and say, “Beware!”

  And all of them are friends of mine


  So none of them are scared.

  Now, Bigfoot’s kind of squishable,

  The softy of them all;

  McGonigle is silly

  ’Cause he likes to climb the wall;

  And Hannah’s pretty big I guess,

  She’s maybe six or twelve,

  And all of them have shadows that go

  Marching by themselves.

  And every shadow makes another

  Shadow right behind.

  They’re marching on the table-top,

  They’re marching up the blind.

  And every time they meet they seem to

  All get in the way,

  And so they all Beware, and then

  They march the other way.

  Round and round the aminals

  Are marching round my room.

  There’s Bigfoot, and McGonigle,

  And Hannah V. Varoom,

  Their shadows, and their shadows’

  Shadows, more and more and more,

  Marching like the Mounties round and

  Round the bedroom floor.

  The Summerhill Fair

  I found a balloon and it went up a tree

  I learned how to ride on a pony for free

  And I looked at a girl and she knew it was me

  When I went to the Summerhill Fair.

  The fishpond was fine, they had monsters and toads

  And Dad got a plant and it broke in the road

  And I think I remember which pony she rode

  When I went to the Summerhill Fair.

  Next year there’s a fair at the very same place

  I hope I run frontwards and win in the race

  And I’ll recognize her by the dirt on her face

  When I go to the Summerhill Fair.

  McGonigle’s Tail

  What shall I do with McGonigle’s tail?

  It came off again, ’cause he swang on the rail.

  I’d give it to Bigfoot to tie up the spoons,

  But he’d probably use it for catching baboons.

  I’d give it to Hannah to put in her bed,

  But she’d probably call it Rebecca or Fred.

  I’d keep it myself, and I’d put it on too,

  But they’d probably say I belonged in the zoo.

  It’s long and it’s off and it can’t be For Sale:

  What shall I do with McGonigle’s tail?

  I tried with some glue,

  But the glue wouldn’t do:

  It squished and it squashed

  And it fell on my shoe.

  I tried with a pin

  But it wouldn’t stay in:

  It bent and it went

  For a sort of a spin.

  So I took out some gum,

  And I chewed on it some,

  And I plastered it round

  With the end of my thumb –

  And McGonigle’s tail

  Is as flippy as new,

  And it hangs from the rear

  Like it used to do.

  And here he is back

  On the banister rail!

  And that is the tale

  Of McGonigle’s tail.

  The Swing

  The swing swings up

  And the swing swings down

  And the swing swings wishing-wings

  High above town.

  And when I go high

  And I feel it sway

  I’ll hang for a minute

  Or hang for a day

  And when I go low

  And I make it whizz

  I’ll come down forever

  And feel it fizz

  But the swing swings up

  And the swing swings down

  And the swing swings wishing-wings

  High above town.

  Suzy Grew a Moustache

  Suzy grew a moustache,

  A moustache,

  A moustache,

  Suzy grew a moustache,

  And Polly grew a beard.

  Suzy looked peculiar,

  Peculiar,

  Peculiar,

  Suzy looked peculiar,

  And Polly looked weird.

  Suzy got the garden-shears,

  Garden-shears,

  The garden-shears,

  Suzy got the garden-shears

  And Polly got a bomb.

  Now Suzy’s face is smooth again,

  Smooth again,

  Smooth again,

  Suzy’s face is smooth again,

  And Polly’s face is gone.

  Inspector Dogbone Gets His Man

  Inspector Dogbone

  Is my name

  And catching bad guys

  Is my game.

  I catch them hot

  I catch them cold

  I catch them when they’re

  Nine days old

  I catch them here

  I catch them there

  I catch them in

  Their underwear

  I like to catch them

  By the toes

  Or by the moustache

  Or the nose

  From Corner Brook

  To Calgary

  There’s not a cop

  Can copy me

  ’Cause every time

  I catch a crook

  I hang him up

  On a big brass hook –

  Yet here I sit

  In the old Don Jail:

  Come gather round

  And I’ll tell my tale.

  One day, as I

  Was walking out,

  I caught a bad guy

  By the snout

  He robbed a million-

  Dollar bank

  I grabbed his snout

  And gave a yank

  I grabbed his snoot

  And gave a flick

  But then he played

  A bad-guy trick:

  His greasy beak

  Was big and tough –

  But with a snap

  He bit it off

  And just like that

  His smelly schnozz

  Had vanished down

  His smelly jaws!

  At once I grabbed him

  By the knee:

  He ate that too

  And laughed at me

  His neck, his arms,

  His back, his feet –

  Whatever I seized

  The man would eat

  Till all there was

  Was just a mouth –

  Which swallowed itself,

  And scampered south.

  The case was gone!

  The case was gone!

  The nose and the toes

  And the face were gone!

  I had no crook

  I had no crime

  My mighty brain

  Worked overtime

  And figured out

  A mighty plan

  For Dogbone always

  Gets his man.

  I had no crime

  I had no crook

  The only person

  Left to book

  Was one whom I

  Had long suspected –

  Inspector Dogbone,

  Whom I arrested.

  I didn’t quake

  I didn’t quail

  I threw myself

  In the old Don Jail

  And here I sit

  Till the end of time,

  Easing my soul

  With a Dogbone rhyme,

  The victim of

  A bad guy’s mouth,

  Which swallowed itself

  And scampered south.

  But please recall

  As I rot in jail –

  Inspector Dogbone

  Didn’t fail!

  And please remember

  When you can –

  Inspector Dogbone

  Got his man!

  The Coming of Teddy Bears

  The air is quiet

  Round my bed.

  The dark is drowsy

  In my head.

 
The sky’s forgetting

  To be red,

  And soon I’ll be asleep.

  A half a million

  Miles away

  The silver stars

  Come out to play,

  And comb their hair

  And that’s OK

  And soon I’ll be asleep.

  And teams of fuzzy

  Teddy bears

  Are stumping slowly

  Up the stairs

  To rock me in

  Their rocking chairs

  And soon I’ll be asleep.

  The night is shining

  Round my head.

  The room is snuggled

  In my bed.

  Tomorrow I’ll be

  Big they said

  And soon I’ll be asleep.

  The Muddy Puddle

  I am sitting

  In the middle

  Of a rather Muddy

  Puddle,

  With my bottom

  Full of bubbles

  And my rubbers

  Full of Mud,

  While my jacket

  And my sweater

  Go on slowly

  Getting wetter

  As I very

  Slowly settle

  To the Bottom

  Of the Mud.

  And I find that

  What a person

  With a puddle

  Round his middle

  Thinks of mostly

  In the muddle

  Is the Muddi-Ness of Mud.

  Bigfoot

  Bigfoot’s sort of Blobby, so he can’t exactly Walk,

  And he sometimes doesn’t answer, ’cause he does forget his Name,

  And he likes to go to School, except he mainly eats the furniture –

  But Bigfoot’s like a Terror,

  Bigfoot’s like a Tiger,

  Bigfoot’s tough as anything in Bad

  Guy

  Games!

  Suppose that I’m pretending there’s a Robber in the bedroom

  And he’s hiding in the closet, ’cause he knows I’d Mash him flat,

  But he makes a mighty Charge, and he fights me to the window-sill –

  Then Bigfoot’s like a Terror!

  Bigfoot’s like a Tiger!

  Bigfoot’s like a Lion in a Laun-

  dro-

  mat!

  Or maybe I go out, and I’m being a Detective,

  And I think I meet a Midget with a Long Black Veil,