(This poem, to clarify, is written as a conversation between a boy and his eldest brother. When the younger one [whose words are in bold] awakens, his eldest siblings begins to tell him a marvelous tale of the afternoon before…)
It looked at us and spoke, it did.
It told us that its name was Sid.
But when we moved it ran and hid.
Yep! We followed it over a hill,
through the city, past a mill,
and that’s when it attacked!
It’s true! It swept in, its gun were blazing,
teeth were gnashing, lasers lazing,
and smacked me. Its hands, they were a blur.
Mm-hm. As quick as quick, I brought you back.
I carried you, you lumpy sack.
You fainted upon seeing the great beast.
Not in the least!
If in truth you told this story
then for you there is much glory.
But the question I’ve been pondering
is, when homeward you were wandering,
what happened to the money in my pocket?
Oh, that’s funny… did you drop it?
“Today was good. Today was fun. Tomorrow is another one.” -Dr. Seuss
And in that same Seussian spirit I say, Until the next…
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