Ben Myers' poem about the commonalities between Dr Barth and Dr Suess generated poetic responses in turn, all from the same 'anon', although I have my suspicions as to whom he might be.
Read and enjoy...
Are your books of any use?
Are they? Are they, Dr Seuss?
Rhymes divine, but logic flimsy:
aren’t your works mere idle whimsy?
Cat in Hat, Things One and Two -
do they speak of what is true?
True, my friend? You ask what’s true?
True is what’s revealed to you.
Logic is not here or there.
Logic won’t go anywhere.
Sometimes what you read won’t fit.
Sometimes that’s the point of it.
Look, here’s Karl. Now gather round:
he will show you what he’s found.
Word is spoken (can you guess?):
God’s big No and bigger Yes.
Yes, I like the Son of Man!
Yes, I choose him, says I Am.
Seuss and Barth and Barth and Seuss:
sauce for gander, sauce for goose.
Thus a simple children’s rhyme
holds a truth to last all time.
Jesus loves me, this I know,
for the Bible tells me so.
Who’d have thought that Fox in Socks
might be neo-orthodox?
(Ben Myers)
No, no, no,
It isn't so -
Dr Seuss
Is much too loose.
The Fox in Socks
Is a liberal in frocks.
The Cat in a Hat
Is no fan of Church Dogmat-
ics; and full disclosure:
Green Eggs and Ham
Isn't healthy, isn't kosher.
No, no, Ma'am -
Sam-I-am,
Sent by Herr Professor Dr Barth
(He's busy chatting with Mozarth
'bout music, opera and all kinds of arth)
To save your children from the Grinch -
For if you grant him just an inch,
If you open his book, his book
(just for a look, a look at his book)
He'll steal their Christmas in a trice -
Not nice, not nice, you'll not do it twice!
The Fox in Socks
Is not orthodox:
He always battles with Mr Knox.
He must be quite contrarian,
And possibly an Arian
To quarrel with that scary man,
The Scottish Presbyterian
Who chided that Queen Mary an'
Came up with a hairy plan
To scold and irk
Those who shirk
The Scottish Kirk
And Sabbaths work
Like the heathen Turk!
***
A poet?
Oh, it
would be fine
to craft a line
so taut and terse.
But I just go
from bad to verse.
Since Dr Seuss became my model,
my Muse began to dream and dawdle.
Now my scansion's askew
And my rhymes ridicholas
So I'll bid thee adieu
On the Feast of Saint Nicholas.
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