La Nuit d’Ennui

The sun did not shine.

It was too cold to write

so I went to the bar

on that wet, dreary night.

I had me a beer

then another or two;

I was fatally bored.

I had nothing to do.

But then the door opened.

Some people came in.

They were singing and laughing,

revved up by the wind.

That’s when I saw him,

his hat large and loose.

He came straight to my table,

my pal, Dr. Suess.

He sat and he smiled.

He chuckled and grinned.

He pinched my cheeks madly

and said, “Let’s begin!”

He ordered Sam Adams

and green eggs and ham.

He talked about writing

and said, “Here’s my plan!

“I’ll write about flub-jubs

and hespery-gogs

with slithery ponkles

and starry-tailed dogs.

Tiny French bongtruffles!

Salted McGees!

Hand-colored grackles,

and goo-birds with cheese...”

Seuss got so excited

he jumped to his feet,

spat out his beer foam

and whistled, “Tweeeeet tweeeet!”

That beer must be strong;

it went right to his head.

He frisbee’d the green eggs.

It filled me with dread.

He hopped on the table

and tapped out a dance.

I had a bad feeling;

he winked me a glance.

“Don’t worry,” he said,

hopping down to the floor.

“We’ll not get kicked out

of that fine wooden door.

“For I can repair this!

It’s magic! You’ll see.

I brought some Things with me,

Things One, Two, and Three.”

They sprang from his hat.

Then, with twinkling eyes,

Dr. Suess sat back down

as the barkeep came by.

“You clean up this mess!

You clean it up now!

Or I’ll call the cops!

This is just not allowed.”

So Thing One swept the floor

and Thing Two did the dishes.

Thing Three licked up green eggs,

said, “These are delicious!”

They dried all the glasses

and put them away.

They wiped every table

and called it a day.

The barkeep was happy;

his place was so clean!

So very much cleaner

than he’d ever seen.

He offered to hire them,

Things One, Two, and Three.

My pal, Dr. Suess said,

“Hey! What about ME?”

“You should stick to your writing.

Your act is not funny.

Keep on writing stories,

come back when it’s sunny.”

Suess counted his dough.

He looked pretty rough.

He paid, he was ploughed,

he’d had more than enough.

He put on his hat

and finished his beer.

Pushed in his chair

and said, “I’m outta here.”

Some fish are red fish.

Some fish are blue.

Dr. Suess made them all up.

I wish they were true.

I drank my warm beer

and stood up on my feet

and shuffled on home,

back to Mulberry Street.