fentopal

A good friend of mine from Maine and I put together a book of gothic children's poetry (he did the poetry, I did the illustrations) and after a few rejections and one glowing review from the fellow who used to edit Shel Silverstein's work, he seems prepared to self publish. Now I've got to dredge up all those dusty old illustrations and figure out if I should redo any of them.

DEVIL DAYCARE

When the Devil went to preschool,
He seemed to fit right in
(Despite the horns atop his head,
And reddish-tinted skin).
He thought that hed torment the tots,
Until they cringed and cried.
But they all seemed desensitized,
No matter what he tried.
Instead they poked and prodded him
And yanked his pointy tail.
They made fun of his cloven hooves
Until he nearly wailed.
And when he threatened to unleash
A fiendish flaming horde--
The teacher simply scowled,
And wrote his name across the board.
When it was time to do their work,
All he would do was pout.
The teacher put the Prince of Darkness
On a long time-out.
By naptime Satan started
To regret his foul decision.
Another day in preschool
And he might just find religion.