This morning, I woke to realize that I had been dreaming of a Shel Silverstein poem. I know it's Shel Silverstein because I can clearly picture the drawing that accompanied it, and it's that semi-creepy, lumpy, pen-and-ink style of "Where the sidewalk ends".
Anyway, the poem was entitled "Sandra Dactylee", and it was about a teenage girl that text messages all of the time, and whose thumbs have turned into the keys of a typewriter.
I can't remember the whole thing, but I know the rhyme.
The first line ends in Dactylee,
The second line ends in "back to me" (as in, "she always stood with her back to me")
and the last line ends with "typewriter keys".
It's very silverstein-like, don't you think? I seem to remember that most of those poems were about kids that misbehaved, and ended up having some kind of grotesque deformity as a result.
The problem is, there's no way that it could be a poem that exists. Shel's last book was 9 years ago, and text messaging barely existed then.
So, I must conclude that I made up a brand new Shel Silverstein poem in my sleep, and I can't remember how it goes.
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1 comment:
You should ask Owen, because he has become a rabid Shel Silverstein fan/consumer. they are his favorite bedtime books ... though some creep even me out. they were all my old books that i used to be so very much enthrawled by. I conceed that you have indeed created a modern version of a shel silverstein idea. I know there is a typewriting gal, but it slips my mind now.
Glad to be back in the loop with your blog!
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