I want to end this first half with the three poems
I've written for children.
I work with a composer called Stephen Paulus in Minnesota,
and he set these poems very nicely to music.
And I just say them to you then take a break
and then read some more.
This first one is called "Dr. Livingston."
I got to tell the story, because I told it already once today,
but I read and--
I work in grade schools, and I go to elementary schools
and work with the children.
And I read these poems one time in November
in Edina, a suburb of Minneapolis,
and I showed the students-- the children my notebooks and said,
anybody want to ask the poet a question?
One little boy put his hand up.
I said, yes.
He said, have you ever put a stem up your nose?
[LAUGHTER]
OK, here are the children's poems.
Excuse me, OK.
These are for very young children,
and I would sing them if I were able to, but I can't.
So these are for tinies.
It's called "Dr. Livingstone."
"I took the dog for a walk in the park.
There were snakes on the swings.
There were goats in the tree.
As we were walking and running along,
a camel came up and spoke to me.
Dr. Livingstone, I presume.
Didledy, dudledy, dudledy, do.
I went to the grocery store on the corner.
I bought mustard and roses.
I bought wine and baloney. As you were floating and fluttering
home I heard from the bag the voice of baloney:
Dr. Livingston, I presume.
Didledy, dudledy, dudledy, do.
I love the rain.
I love the snow.
I love my street.
I love my neighbors.
My table is red.
My ceiling is blue.
My dog's vegetarian.
How about you?
I wrote to my mother who lives in the water.
I wrote to my brother who lives in a cloud.
As you go waddling and waddling back,
the mailbox full of the shouting out loud.
Dr. Livingston, I presume.
Didledy, dudledy, dudledy, do.
I am the sun.
I am the moon.
I am a man.
I am marmalade too.
My dog goes meow.
My cats go moo.
Dr. Livingston, Dr. Livingston, didledy, dudledy, dudledy, do."