A Seussian Thing Happened One Night…
I awoke with a fright and a bump on the head
And I saw a strange creature at the head of my bed,
So strange was this creature, no stranger could be found.
Then, most strange of all, it began running around.
I grabbed this strange creature, in my hand it was held,
Then beheld the strange stranger in my hand that was held.
I spoke: As I did, the beheld creature did yell
And his yell did swell so that I knew he twern’t well.
“What is wrong with you creature?” I asked with a smile,
The creature’s swell yell still swelling all of the while.
“Please, tell…why are you yelling and swelling like that?
Can’t you simply be quiet and skiddly-skat?”
“No,” said the creature, “I cannot skiddly-skat,
For I am a creature known as the ratty-tat.
By definition, the definition of that,
A ratty-tat simply cannot just skiddly-skat.
“Oh, my,” said I, now wearing a half of a grin.
He shrugged, and then began his swell yelling again.
I wondered how did he get here? Who let him in?
Who let this un-skiddly-skatting ratty-tat in?
Then, once again, the strange creature started to run.
I found his running most incredibly unfun.
So from off of my mantle, I fetched down my gun
And halted the strange creature, his running undone.
After the ratty-tat was all pumped full of lead,
I brushed his remains from off the head of my bed.
Worn from the ruckus but very glad he was dead,
I fluffed up my flat pillow and rested my head.
But oh, that poor creature on my bed who did yell,
I admit that the yelling he yelled he yelled well.
On his unyelling body I tried not to dwell,
Nor the thought that his soul is now yelling in Hell.