Miles of Smiles Read online

  After that I’ll get some gum

  and squoosh it in his hair,

  then put a glob of itching cream

  inside his underwear.

  I’ll pluck his nose hairs one by one

  and light them all on fire,

  and load his catcher’s mitt with glue

  and whack him with a tire.

  Really, I’ll do this and more

  (I’ve got to take a stand).

  The next time that my brother snaps

  me with a rubber band.

  Joyce Armor

  Forgetful

  My sister woke up in the morning.

  She had to go potty real bad.

  I must have forgotten to put the seat down.

  She fell in the toilet—how sad.

  She yelled and she screamed and she hollered.

  There’s no doubt that she was upset.

  Whenever my sister is nasty to me,

  it seems that I always forget.

  Bruce Lansky

  My Sister’s Always on the Phone

  My sister’s always on the phone,

  I never see her study.

  She doesn’t do her homework,

  which is why her grades are cruddy.

  My sister’s always on the phone,

  but I don’t think that’s cool.

  My sister is so popular

  she’s flunking out of school.

  Bruce Lansky

  School Rules

  Do not oversleep and miss the school bus,

  you’ll be late.

  That’s a habit teachers generally

  don’t appreciate.

  Never call your teacher a name

  when she’s not near you.

  Teachers’ ears are excellent,

  so they can always hear you.

  Never tell your friends at school

  that you still wet your bed.

  They are sure to tease you,

  and you’ll wish that you were dead.

  If you go out for a team

  it’s always wise to practice.

  When you are a substitute,

  the bench can feel like cactus.

  Do not read a textbook when your hands

  aren’t clean, it’s tricky

  to separate the pages when the pages

  get real sticky.

  Never copy homework from a friend

  who is a dummy.

  If you do, I guarantee

  your homework will be crummy.

  And if your report card’s bad,

  don’t blame it on your buddy.

  Kiss up to your parents quick,

  or they might make you study.

  Bruce Lansky

  Lunch Lines

  She slops up the glop

  with a splattery plop.

  It’s a mushpot of pig swill and worms.

  It’s oozy! It’s icky!

  Though I may seem picky,

  I don’t like a hot dish that squirms.

  Dave Crawley

  The Field Trip

  The bus engine roared as we clambered on board

  and took the first seats we could find.

  Matthew had thought he’d have time for the bathroom,

  but somehow we left him behind.

  Pete put a beetle down Eleanor’s back.

  He just didn’t think she would mind.

  And Alex threw Tyler’s new coat out the window

  when Tyler said something unkind.

  It rained down a fuss when we got off the bus.

  Our teacher was soaked to the skin.

  And then when she found she forgot all our lunches,

  her patience began to wear thin.

  She got so befuddled, she stepped in a puddle.

  The water went up to her shin.

  And I’d gladly say what she said when it happened,

  but I know that swearing’s a sin.

  We moaned and we groaned as we started back home,

  cranky, exhausted, and spent.

  Sally was certain her stomach was hurtin’.

  We soon understood what she meant.

  My teacher might feel that this trip was a failure.

  I’m sure that was not her intent.

  I’ll tell her we had the most wonderful time.

  I just can’t recall where we went.

  Eric Ode

  Food Fight

  We’d never seen the teachers

  in a state of such distress.

  The principal was yelling

  that the lunchroom was a mess.

  It started off so innocent

  when someone threw a bun,

  but all the other kids decided

  they should join the fun.

  It instantly turned into

  an enormous lunchroom feud,

  as students started hurling

  all their halfway-eaten food.

  A glob went whizzing through the air,

  impacting on the wall.

  Another chunk went sailing out

  the doorway to the hall.

  The food was splattered everywhere—

  the ceilings, walls, and doors.

  A sloppy, gloppy mess was on

  the tables and the floors.

  And so our good custodian

  ran out to grab his mop.

  It took him half the afternoon

  to clean up all the slop.

  The teachers even used some words

  we’re not supposed to mention.

  And that’s how all the kids and teachers

  wound up in detention.

  Kenn Nesbitt

  I Brought My Grandma’s Teeth to School

  I brought my grandma’s teeth to school to share for show-and-tell.

  Billy showed his sneakers. It was more like show-and-smell.

  Kevin brought a violin and showed he couldn’t play.

  Katie brought her snake to school—too bad it got away.

  Our class likes show-and-tell a lot, so we were sad to hear

  our teacher say that show-and-tell is canceled till next year.

  Robert Pottle

  My Teacher Sees Right Through Me

  I didn’t do my homework.

  My teacher asked me, “Why?”

  I answered him, “It’s much too hard.”

  He said, “You didn’t try.”

  I told him, “My dog ate it.”

  He said, “You have no dog.”

  I said, “I went out running.”

  He said, “You never jog.”

  I told him, “I had chores to do.”

  He said, “You watched TV.”

  I said, “I saw the doctor.”

  He said, “You were with me.”

  My teacher sees right through my fibs,

  which makes me very sad.

  It’s hard to fool your teacher

  when your teacher is your dad.

  Bruce Lansky

  Oops!

  Three coffee cups my mother loved

  lie shattered on the floor.

  Three ripe tomatoes splattered

  when they hit the kitchen door.

  Three jumbo eggs are scrambled.

  But they’re not on a plate.

  Three loaves of bread are crumbled.

  I’ll use the crumbs for bait.

  Three Barbie dolls have lost their heads.

  Three pepper mills are smashed.

  Three goldfish died while doing flips.

  Three model airplanes crashed.

  Three lettuce heads unraveled.

  Three onions came unpeeled.

  My parents didn’t know who did it

  till my sister squealed.

  My parents are befuddled.

  They think that I’ve gone nuts.

  But there’s a simpler explanation:

  I’m a juggling klutz.

  Bruce Lansky

  A Balanced Diet

  I eat a balanced diet,

 
; I do it day and night—

  a pound of brownies on my left,

  a pound upon my right.

  And filling up my right hand,

  with clear and certain heft,

  a twelve-ounce bag of jellybeans.

  The same is on my left.

  A candy cane in one hand,

  and likewise in the other.

  There are equal sweets on either side,

  a big frown from my mother.

  I eat a balanced diet,

  but my mother disagrees.

  I just don’t understand it.

  She’s so darned hard to please!

  Robert Scotellaro

  An “Everything” Pizza

  I ordered an “everything” pizza,

  which probably was a mistake.

  For it came with a bagful of doughnuts;

  it came with a shovel and rake.

  It came with a woman named Ida.

  It came with a man from Peru.

  It came with a half jar of peanuts.

  It came with somebody’s left shoe.

  It came with a clown from the circus.

  It came with a butterfly net.

  It came with a small piece of Kleenex

  that was used by Marie Antoinette.

  It came with an open umbrella.

  It came with some old smelly socks.

  It came with a picture of Lassie,

  and two lovely grandfather clocks.

  It came with a nice set of dishes.

  It came with a stale loaf of bread.

  It came with a sack of potatoes.

  It came with a four-poster bed.

  It came with a dining room table.

  It came with a washer and dryer.

  It came with a broken guitar string.

  It came with a radial tire.

  It came with a golden retriever.

  It came with a basket of fruit.

  It came with a bottle of mustard.

  It came with a red rubber boot.

  It came with a college professor.

  It came with a hive full of bees.

  And then—this is simply amazing—

  they forgot to put on any cheese!

  Linda J. Knaus

  Big Mary

  Mary had a little lamb,

  a little toast,

  a little jam,

  a little pizza

  and some cake,

  some French fries

  and a chocolate shake,

  a little burger

  on a bun.

  And that’s why Mary

  weighs a ton.

  Bill Dodds

  Powdered Sugar

  I hurried in the restaurant

  to have a special treat.

  I ordered pancakes covered with

  my favorite thing to eat.

  It wasn’t maple syrup,

  not molasses, honey, jam.

  I said, “Put heaps and piles

  of powdered sugar on it Ma’am.”

  The food arrived completely coated

  with the tasty fluff.

  I cut a bite and raised my fork

  to gobble up the stuff.

  Instead, I goofed—I breathed it in

  and quickly had to cough.

  My choking blasted

  all the luscious

  pancake topping off.

  I blew a powdered sugar storm

  that flurried ‘round the room.

  It snowed on the linoleum—

  the waitress got a broom.

  It fell on heads like dandruff flakes.

  It frosted every light.

  It powdered babies’ bottoms,

  and turned chocolate milk to white.

  I blinked, and rubbed my cloudy eyes,

  and sneezed a snow-white booger.

  I saw my pancakes, and I said,

  “I need more powdered sugar!”

  Sydnie Meltzer Kleinhenz

  Little Miss Muffet

  Little Miss Muffet

  sat on a tuffet

  eating her curds and whey.

  Along came a spider

  who sat down beside her.

  And since she was still hungry,

  she ate the spider, too.

  Bruce Lansky

  The Yuckiest Sandwich

  Take a slice of moldy bread.

  Spread it thick with mud.

  Add an onion ring or two,

  topped with slimy crud.

  Sprinkle fish food all around—

  add a dried-up bug.

  Smear the whole thing with the lint

  you picked up off the rug.

  Garnish it with coffee grounds

  or hair spray from your mother.

  Then wrap it up in cellophane

  and give it to your brother!

  Ellen Jackson

  Table Manners

  If I were to make up the etiquette rules,

  it wouldn’t be too impolite

  to reach for the biggest dessert on the tray

  and gobble it down in one bite;

  to beat on my brother with drumsticks;

  eat corn on the cob with my toes;

  stand up on my chair and shout, “Food fight!”

  hang string beans right out of my nose.

  I’d say it’s okay to blow bubbles in milk;

  to dribble and slobber and slurp;

  to yackety-yak with my mouth full of food,

  then swallow and let out a burp.

  It wouldn’t be crude to bounce meatballs,

  to hide all the veggies I hate,

  stick bubble gum under the table,

  or lick all my fingers and plate.

  And after I made up the etiquette rules

  there’s one other thing I would do.

  Whenever my parents are eating,

  I’d make them obey the rules, too.

  Joan Horton

  Sound Off!

  Our bodies sound off all the time.

  What noises we can make!

  It happens when we’re fast asleep,

  or when we’re wide awake.

  Hands clap and slap, and fingers snap.

  We cough and sneeze and snore.

  Our hungry stomachs growl for food,

  then rumble for some more.

  Our feet tap and our bones go pop.

  Our lips smack and they slurp.

  But most unusual of all

  is when our bottoms burp!

  Susan D. Anderson

  Strongest Team

  We’re the strongest team in town,

  as other teams can tell.

  We haven’t got the strongest arms.

  We’ve got the strongest smell.

  Ted Scheu

  Sprinkles

  If you sprinkle

  when you tinkle,

  please be neat

  and wipe the seat.

  Anonymous

  The Curse of the Foul-Smelling Armpit

  The curse of the foul-smelling armpit

  is the one thing it’s best to avoid;

  it’s a HORROR that lurks unsuspecting

  and has many a friendship destroyed.

  For people no longer stand near you—

  they throw back their heads in despair

  and rush away looking quite frantic,

  the shock is just TOO MUCH to bear!

  When questioned, nine out of ten people

  agreed they would much rather spend

  a night in a CREEPY OLD CASTLE

  than next to a ‘foul armpit’ friend!

  The president said in the White House,

  “It’s the very best WEAPON we’ve got!

  Much stronger than onions and garlic,

  or cabbages starting to rot!”

  If thousands of men with foul armpits

  could parachute down from the sky

  right onto an enemy army,

  they’d force them to curl up and die!

  No we
apon could match this performance;

  we’d win without firing a gun!

  Defense cuts would run into BILLIONS—

  and fighting a war would be fun!

  To people with foul-smelling armpits

  the message is clear as can be:

  BUY A SPRAY and your friends will be glad that

  you don’t smell as grungy as me!

  Trevor Harvey

  On a Swing

  On a swing

  it’s fun to fly

  in swooping loops

  that touch the sky.

  And while you soar

  and dive and dance,

  the world can see

  your underpants.

  Ted Scheu

  Clear As Mud

  I go to bed each morning.

  I wake up every night.

  I spill my milk at breakfast,

  and then turn on the light.

  Each day I miss the school bus.

  I never have been late.

  I don’t turn in my homework.

  My teacher thinks I’m great.

  My favorite game is basketball.

  I cannot sink a shot.

  We haven’t won a single game.

  Our team is getting hot!

  Last year I was in high school.

  Now I’m in second grade.

  Next year I’ll be in daycare.

  I’ll really have it made!

  When I grow up, I’m hoping

  a baby I can be:

  a pacifier in my mouth,

  my cradle in a tree.

  This poem’s so confusing.

  It’s all so crystal clear.

  Perhaps I’ll understand it

  when I am born next year.

  Bruce Lansky

  Miss Veronica Blair

  Miss Veronica Blair had long, beautiful hair,

  but Veronica hated shampooing it.

  She wanted no more of the tedious chore,

  so one day she simply stopped doing it.

  She piled it instead on the top of her head

  back away from her face and her ears,