I don’t know about anyone else, but I grew up with some of the strangest reading. Shel Silverstein featured alongside Calvin and Hobbes, Hank the Cowdog, Anne of Green Gables and the Boxcar Children.
Only now, a wee bit older and not at all any more grown up, do I appreciate just how odd Silverstein is. Not only are his drawings fanciful and have a teetering look to them, but are often macabre as well as bizarre.
And have you ever heard him read one of his poems? Strange, strange..
I opened my eyes
And looked up at the rain,
And it dripped in my head
And flowed into my brain,
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.
I step very softly,
I walk very slow,
I can’t do a handstand–
I might overflow,
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said–
I’m just not the same since there’s rain in my head.
Crane Count: 57