You don't want a drink of water!
Go to sleep! There! There! Go to sleep.



* * *

I wonder why I wear a tie. It is not warm to wear;
But if I left it off someone would say it was not there.

I wonder, if I took a whiff of father's pipe for fun,
Would I be big and strong like him, or just his small, sick son?

I wonder when our old white hen will know her squawk betrays her.
I think she lets us find her eggs just so that we shall praise her.

* * *



THE PUBLISHER

I'd like to be a publisher, And publish massive tomes
Written in a massive style by blokes with massive domes--
Science books, and histories of Egypt's day and Rome's,
Books of psycho-surgery to mine the minds of momes,
And solemn pseudo-psychic stuff to tell where Topsy roams
When her poor clay is put away beneath the spreading holms;
Books about electrocuting little seeds with ohms
To sternly show them how to grow in sands, and clays, and loams,