When I was in elementary school, there was little I hated more than library time, when we would all crowd into the school library, sit on the scratchy, ratted carpet, and listen to our librarian read--in a painfully slow, over enunciated, talking-to-babies voice--picture books that, at least as I remember it, we were several years too old for.

But there was the occasional bright spot in library time, and this was a big solar-flare sized one:



For a long time, I liked poetry about as much as I liked library time, but Shel Silverstein's poems never seemed like "poetry." And how could you not love epics like:

Oh, if you're a bird, be an early bird
And catch the worm for your breakfast plate.
If you're a bird, be an early early bird--
But if you're a worm, sleep late.

(And yes, I did copy that out of my very own copy of Where the Sidewalk Ends, which as far as I'm concerned, was the second best perk I got out of working at Scholastic. The best was hanging out with LL Cool J, but that's another story.)

Seriously, the man's a genius.  My favorite was always "Sick" ("I cannot go to school today" / said little Peggy Ann McKay.) Although "Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout Would Not Take the Garbage Out" runs a close second. (There's something deliciously Struweelpeter-y about the ending.) How about you?

Hard to believe all this sprouted from the same brain responsible for the repugnant The Giving Tree.

Also hard to believe? The fact (one that I just discovered tonight, and thus the proximal cause for this post) that "Where the Sidewalk Ends" is also the title of a 1950s movie about as far from whimsical kid-friendly poetry as you can get. 



"Dana Andrews is brutal metropolitan police detective Dixon, who despises all criminals because his father had been one. When the cops pick up two-bit gambler Ken Paine (Craig Stevens) as a murder suspect, Dixon subjects Paine to the third degree — and accidentally kills him. In disposing of the body, Dixon inadvertently places the blame for the killing on cab driver Jiggs Taylor (Tom Tully). Having fallen in love with Jigg's daughter, Morgan (Gene Tierney), Dixon tries to clear the cabbie without implicating himself, but ultimately he becomes trapped in a web of his own making." (description courtesy of hulu.com)

For some reason, I find this equal parts disturbing and delightful.

It's such a peculiarly evocative phrase that this can't possibly be a coincidence, right? Is there some Shel Silverstein expert who wants to enlighten me on a connection, or should I just make one up?