 About this poem: I wrote this poem as part of my original Galapagos collection. When I changed the book to focus on endemic species (plants, animals, fish, insects, and birds found only in one place on Earth), I had to remove this poem, because happily, blue-footed boobies can be found along the Sea of Cortez in Mexico and on the west coast of South America as well as in the Galapagos Islands.
Here, I'm kind of poking fun of boobies, who attract forever partners with their bright blue feet, but also enjoy showing them off to whoever's passing by. Super blue feet come from eating nutritious fish and signal good health. Bobo means "fool" in Spanish. Maybe their slow-mo dance moves look silly to humans, but they sure work well for the birds!
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 ...there's SOMETHING weird perched somewhere up there in our family tree... Uncle Bobby says I hatched
from an egg with polka dots. He says my brother hatched from one with pink and purple spots. He says our mother sat on us for forty-seven weeks before we pecked our way to freedom with our pointy orange beaks. Uncle Bobby says the webs between our toes dissolved and then our stubby wings fell out before our spindly arms evolved. I think I don’t believe him. But (just between you and me)? There’s something strange perched somewhere up there in our family tree. About this poem: When my boys were about three and four, the oldest asked if he'd come from an egg. I said yes, and continued with what I thought was a brilliantly simple yet accurate response. My listeners glazed over, then dismissed it as nonsense. So the next time he asked, I said, yes, they'd hatched from eggs alright—Malcolm's had a purple shell and Griffin’s was green. That was much more satisfying for all parties. There is a time and a place for lying, and it is in the home when you have small children. Writing this poem, I thought about how everyone feels like their family is a little bit (or a lot bit) strange and crazy. In real life, Uncle Bobby is a family friend. His knees do not bend backwards. At least not that I'm aware of.  About this poem: When my niece and nephew were toddlers, my sister, Susanna, thought it would be hilarious if she told them that our parents have tails that no one ever saw because they kept them inside their pants. As my sister and her family lived right down the road, her kids saw a lot of their grandparents. But never enough of them to know if it was true.
Much to my disappointment, Susanna controlled her impulse and never actually told Chloe and Myles that Mom and Dad have tails. But when I had my own children, I wasn't so mature. They only believed me for a little while, but still, IT HAS NEVER BEEN VERIFIED EITHER WAY. PS: Prehensile is one of my favorite words. Appendages that can curl are prehensile, like an opossum's tail or a monkey's toes. I wish I had a prehensile tail I could write with. Terklington Fluffious Foresterhof,
My grizzled old hamster, is out of his mind. He’s convinced that he lives in a kingdom he rules full of fools. He’s half deaf and all blind. Terklington Fluffious Foresterhof sleeps all day and he parties all night. His gold wheel emits a high, terrible squeal That he pays me to fix with a bite. I scoop up his poop and I freshen his bedding and offer fat seeds he receives with delight. Terklington Fluffious thinks that he’s king! I’m glad that he’s not right. ABOUT THIS POEM: This poem was my entry for Round 2 in the 2019 MadnessPoetry tournament. I lost. But I lost by a very small margin to a very good poet, RJ Clarken. I admit, I didn't take full advantage of the prompt word, "grizzled," but once King Terklington got into my head, there was no budging him. I like the internal rhymes in this verse, and the fact that the hamster's "master" really thinks that he's the one in charge. I also just enjoy hamsters, even when they're cranky. |
authorMs. Betsy's oldest surviving poem is one she wrote in the third grade. "Down in the Sewer" didn't make her popular, but it made a small group of loyal fans very cheerful. Some of the latest poems she's written, "Poems of Galapagos," appeared in Cricket Magazine's July/August 2020 issue. She hopes they'll reach a wider audience than her first poem did, and make more people cheerful...and possibly provoke some thoughts, as well. Archives
March 2021
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