Uploaded on July 31, 2011
Spaghetti, spaghetti all over the place,
Up to my elbows—up to my face,
Over the carpet and under the chairs,
Into the hammock and wound round the stairs,
Filling the bathtub and covering the desk,
Making the sofa a mad mushy mess.
The party is ruined, I’m terribly worried,
The guests have all left (unless they’re all buried).
I told them, “Bring presents.” I said, “Throw Confetti.”
I guess they heard wrong
“Cause they all threw spaghetti!
—Shel Silverstein
Where the Sidewalk Ends
07.31.2023: This is a fun poem, and it was a fun shot to set up, but Dennis got a little nervous.