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"Use'ta Like Cole Slaw"

A brown haired boy with widened eyes
pedaled fast as fast he could.
Outside his town, along the road,
can you guess what Willie saw
near his home at Williwaw?
Can you? Do you think you could
imagine near to Williwaw,
hard to gulp but here they are:
GIANT piles of spilled cole slaw
Will had not and nor have you
ever seen such vast amounts
of cole slaw cabbage in the swale,
engulfing gullies—bathsize tubs !
and tons of cabbage peelings.
Now Willie wondered; so do I:
Who would waste good food like that?
And does one really peel a cabbage?
Willie guessed and so do I,
it's for the best  to chop a cabbage.
Next we ask and so might you
"What's with all this cabbage goo
on the swale and in the gullies
on the road to Williwaw;
where the air is less good for it.
Even crows tend to ignore it."
Will sped home, his purpose bent,
"Pa! There's been an accident!
Let's go and get the sheriff too.
I saw slaw! It's awful gross!"
The sheriff on the phone sighed vexed,
"The coroner may be summoned next.
Williams, I am on the way
—expect we'll find mashed cat or dog;
knowing Willie, could be frog."
The three men went to view the scene.
The sheriff then was heard to scream
"I never saw such heaps of reek—
of stinkin' cabbage slaw!"
Oh the piles
that Willie saw
had grown by now so much more than
one hundred-hundred giant maws
conveniently could swallow.
"Some trucker must be dumping loads"
Replied the sheriff,  "If that were true
it would be brown." Then Mr. Williams,
his eyes cast down,
"I meant truck loads."
"Oh, right."
Willie now
chucked his own chin.
What had Willie
willed to wow?
He'd dreamed last night of tubs of slaw
—enough to feed all Williwaw.
And this next day it all comes true.
Tomorrow,  yikes, the whole town dies!
A slaw tsunami—wipes them away.
Slaw   is   slow   yet   grown  ups
He's O K
He rides his dream bike
fast away

17 Oct 06

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poem is now roughed to form.
thank you for coping

with my junk.

lol, r'y
 — netskyIam

ahhhh, man you are good.
I really love this stuff, so cheeky and wryly entertaining.
You are a gifted storyteller!
 — jenakajoffer

I owe you some lookie-fixie time on your Autism poem, Jen.
I've bookmarked it for study.  Pardon me for getting so channeled in my own selfish stuff?

Have fixed a typo in this green poem.  It will be refined as time shows better ways.

What a silly poem--it's for children, of course.  It's for me too.  It's for anyone who loves dreamscape imagination.  It was all a dream of Willie's.  

Fond thanks to a great mom,
 — netskyIam

chopped cabbage, poem is now rough(ag)ed to form, i really hope that was an accident
 — unknown

the poem read aloud:
 — netskyIam

If you're dead set serious about creating a children's poem, why not delete all references to bodily functions. Just keep it silly.
 — unknown

True, your point has merit.
I'm undecided.  Kids love scat humor--it's naughty but not obscene.
They all know about "loads".  So--while parents might call it lowbrow humor,
well, kids like lowbrow humor.  Don't they?  Why do I?  I don't know.
I think
I never grew up.   Thanks! You're very kind to crit--and correct in your point.
So many choices.  Peeling potatoes challenges my decision making processes too.
grins, r.
 — netskyIam

I'm retiring for the night so I don't feel like logging in but I do intend to mark this a favourite.  Had to laugh at your peeling potatoes...
 — unknown