Un-fun Mr. Zum :(
September 12, 2012 § 21 Comments
i had a baby, a tar-heart baby, i liked my baby, my tar-heart baby.
i was bright, i was yellow, i was painted in cinnamon cayenne and pleasure.
We read a novel side by side, we watched the train Dagny fly by—he even liked my pistachio goat ice cream.
But winter came and he turned ho-hum.
He’s a vicious writing funny-mun. But it’s not fun. No he is un-fun. Un-fun is not fun. Un-fun Mr. Zum.
Un-fun is the opposite of fun Mr. Zum.
What had i done? Where was my fun? I wanted play i wanted sun, he was the opposite —i called him Zum because he’s an un-fun the sort of mean-fun bully on the playground-fun. Mean Mr. Zum.
This was madness, this was badness this was sadness this was too much un-fun-ness,
this was tar-heart baby play ing.
Tar-heart baby, let me be, let me shine bright, stop making fun of me.
Stop bringing up my past un-funs.
No one likes you tar-heart baby, no one likes un-fun-ness.
So make your choice and make it quick, either build a real heart, or get out of my way QUICK,
i’m about to stick a zick-fun-stick up your lick, so at least one of us can start our laughing,
so watch out baby build a shade tree
’round your tar-heart baby —because i’m brining in the sun and we shall defeat thee by our bright gaiety., we overpopulate you and your tar-heart-baby Zums. We beat you because we are DREAMER [and dreamers have fun].
so do what you do baby, keep on your not thinking-on, get on your way crazy, enjoy your un-fun. Just know that you’re not fun, and fun people don’t like Mr. Zums.
I’m building a treehouse, so when you walk by [when you miss me], read the sign very cl ear ly:
“NO UN-FUNS, NO MR. ZUMS”
This is a tree fort built for pleasure, built for play– No ho-hums, no un-funs, no Mr. Zums.
Poor Mr. Zum now he was un-fun and had no funs left who wanted to entertain him… What a qerbackle, what an un-fun pickle to be in.