Dr. Seuss' Four Questions

Apologies to anyone who's seen this already...

		--G

The Dr. Seuss version of the 4 questions

         Why is it only
         on Passover night
         we never know how
         to do anything right?
         We don't eat our meals
         in the regular ways,
         the ways that we do
         on all other days.

         `Cause on all other nights
         we may eat
         all kinds of wonderful
         good bready treats,
         like big purple pizza
         that tastes like a pickle,
         crumbly crackers
         and pink pumpernickel,
         sassafras sandwich
         and tiger on rye,
         fifty falafels in pita,
         fresh-fried,
         with peanut-butter
         and tangerine sauce
         spread onto each side
         up-and-down, then across,
         and toasted whole-wheat bread
         with liver and ducks,
         and crumpets and dumplings,
         and bagels and lox,
         and doughnuts with one hole
         and doughnuts with four,
         and cake with six layers
         and windows and doors.
         Yes--
         on all other nights
         we eat all kinds of bread,
         but tonight of all nights
         we munch matzah instead.

         And on all other nights
         we devour
         vegetables, green things,
         and bushes and flowers,
         lettuce that's leafy
         and candy-striped spinach,
         fresh silly celery
         (Have more when you're finished!)
         cabbage that's flown
         from the jungles of Glome
         by a polka-dot bird
         who can't find his way home,
         daisies and roses
         and inside-out grass
         and artichoke hearts
         that are simply first class!
         Sixty asparagus tips
         served in glasses
         with anchovy sauce
         and some sticky molasses--
         But on Passover night
         you would never consider
         eating an herb
         that wasn't all bitter.

         And on all other nights
         you would probably flip
         if anyone asked you
         how often you dip.
         On some days I only dip
         one Bup-Bup egg
         in a teaspoon of vinegar
         mixed with nutmeg,
         but sometimes we take
         more than ten thousand tails
         of the Yakkity-birds
         that are hunted in Wales,
         and dip them in vats
         full of Mumbegum juice.
         Then we feed them to Harold,
         our six-legged moose.
         Or we don't dip at all!
         We don't ask your advice.
         So why on this night
         do we have to dip twice?

         And on all other nights
         we can sit as we please,
         on our heads, on our elbows,
         our backs or our knees,
         or hang by our toes
         from the tail of a Glump,
         or on top of a camel
         with one or two humps,
         with our foot on the table,
         our nose on the floor,
         with one ear in the window
         and one out the door,
         doing somersaults
         over the greasy k'nishes
         or dancing a jig
         without breaking the dishes.
         Yes--
         on all other nights
         you sit nicely when dining--
         So why on this night
         must it all be reclining?