Today we celebrate Shel Silverstein’s birthday. A very talented man who, among other things, wrote the Giving Tree and Where The Sidewalk Ends…today’s poem is a celebration of his style and if he were alive today I would say…Shel, I’m sorry for this but it’s the best I can do.
THE PESSIMISTIC NOSE
The nose was complaining to the eyes one day
He said, “I’m feeling a little blue.
Why is there only one of me
while there are two of you.”
“How in the world of body parts am I ever to compete
with the likes of 2 eyes, 2 ears, 2 arms, 2 legs…
and don’t forget 2 feet?”
“I’m not sure how it happened, but it’s plain for me to see…
no other part of the body could have it worse than me?”
Just then the underarms spoke up, “Nose you’re making such a fuss…
What are you so worked up about…when you could be one of us.”
“We never see the light of day.
It’s warm and dark inside this place we dwell
Hair is growing everywhere…and can we talk about the smell?
The feet were next to add their opinion, “As far as anxiety goes,
is there any part more worse off…than the space between our toes?”
“They don’t have their own identity, like the finger or footprint.
They only connect the toes together…and collect both dirt and lint.
Finally a voice boomed out from down below, “I wish I had a tear to shed…
I’d change places with any of you…any day.”
is what the anus said.
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