Sample text for What's the weather inside? / Karma Wilson ; illustrated by Barry Blitt.


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What's the Weather Inside?

What's the weather like inside?
What's the forecast say?
Is that a breeze of memory
blown in from yesterday?
Has a fog of doubt rolled in
upon the winds of change?
Or floods of creativity
with just a chance of strange?
A jolt of anger followed by
the thunder of despair?
A lilt of laughter floating
on a future bright and fair?
What's the weather like inside?
Tune in and take a look.
Is that a brainstorm coming on?
Curl up and write a book.

I dare Ya

If you think poems are stupid
and poetry's a bore,
if every poem you've ever read
has almost made you snore,
and if you're sure this book's the same
as all you've read before...
I dare ya, yes, I dare ya: Turn the page.

Miss Muffet's Revenge

Little Miss Muffet
sat on her tuffet
eating a yogurt parfait.
Along came a spider,
who sat down beside her.
She squished it
and flicked it away.

What Your Dog Might Be Thinking

I love to pee on the flower bed.
I love to eat things smelly and dead.
I love the smell of putridness.
I love to frolic in rottenness.
I love to bury my bones in a hole.
I love to drink from the toilet bowl.
I love to munch what the garbage man misses.
I love to give my people kisses. SLURP!

What Your Cat Might Be Thinking

I'm the center of the universe.
I'm all-out royalty.
There really isn't anyone
who's near as good as me.
And everything that's ever done
is done just for my bidding.
And I shall banish anyone
I do not deem befitting.
Laps were made to be my throne,
and hands were made to pet me.
And anything I want to do,
of course, you have to let me.
And if you open up a book,
then that's to lay my head on.
And if you put your sweater down,
well, that's for me to shed on.
And if you plant a pretty plant,
well, that's for me to chew.
And if you bring a puppy home,
well, that's the end of you.

What Your Hamster Might Be Thinking

RUN
RUN
RUN
RUN!
Through the kitchen
down the hall
RUN
RUN
RUN
RUN!
Must...escape...the...
plastic...ball...

Naps

I don't like naps.
In fact, I hate 'em . .
.unless my baby brother
takes 'em.

Changing Time

It's changing time for brother.
Pew.
It's time to change that diaper.
Ew.
Dirty, stinky, icky poo.
It's changing time again.

Somebody change him now!
Who?
Will someone change my brother?
You?
Me? Gee, it's not so bad.
It's not quite changing time.
Whew!

Alligator Purse

"Oh, dahling, don't you love my purse?
It's genuine alligator."
She said that just this morning,
but then a little later
she reached inside for something
and it ate her.

Inside a Tornado

I wonder what it might be like
inside a big tornado.
Floating free, like Dorothy,
you'd ride the rushing flow.
Twirling, swirling, whirling,
maybe shouting as you go...
"HELP! I DO NOT WANT TO BE INSIDE THIS BIG TORNADO!"Text copyright © 2009 by Karma Wilson


Library of Congress subject headings for this publication:
Children's poetry, American.
Humorous poetry, American.