If you want to find out what a writer or a cartoonist really feels, look at his work. That's enough.

I said, "I'll take the T-bone steak." A soft voice mooed, "Oh wow." And I looked up and realized The waitress was a cow. I cried, "Mistake--forget the the steak. I'll take the chicken then." I heard a cluck--'twas just my luck The busboy was a hen. I said, "Okay no, fowl today. I'll have the seafood dish." Then I saw through the kitchen door The cook--he was a fish. I screamed, "Is there anyone workin' here Who's an onion or a beet? No? Your're sure? Okay then friends, A salad's what I'll eat." They looked at me. "Oh,no," they said, "The owner is a cabbage head.

Anything can happen, child. Anything can be.

God says to me with a kind of smile, "Hey how would you like to be God awhile And steer the world?" . . . . "How much do I get? What time is lunch?" . . . . "Gimme back that wheel," says God. "I don't think you're quite ready yet."

He wasted his wishes on wishing.

There's a Polar Bear In our Frigidaire-- He likes it 'cause it's cold in there. With his seat in the meat And his face in the fish And his big hairy paws In the buttery dish, He's nibbling the noodles, And munching the rice, He's slurping the soda, He's licking the ice. And he lets out a roar If you open the door. And it gives me a scare To know he's in there-- That Polary Bear In our Fridgitydaire.

Just Me, Just Me Sweet Marie, she loves just me (She also loves Maurice McGhee). No she don't, she loves just me (She also loves Louise Dupree). No she don't, she loves just me (She also loves the willow tree). No she don't, she loves just me! (Poor, poor fool, why can't you see She can love others and still love thee.)