I was thinking about making a submission to the Cambridge Sidewalk Poetry Contest. The winning poems are stamped in concrete as part of the city’s sidwalk repair program. Here are a few silly poems I came up with that seemed good for sidewalks. A first untitled one:

Can’t tell you where the sidewalk ends,
But it surely isn’t here.
Another square of pavement walking,
Ever ready near.
But if this isn’t where the sidewalk ends
Then perhaps it’s a beginning—
New chance for walking, seeing, doing,
New adventures to appear.

This got me in a Shel Silverstein headspace which then led to this one I called “Worry Croc”:

Deep below this sidewalk,
There lives a worry croc.
He paddles ‘round the sewers,
Waiting memories to drop.
He listens as you walk around,
Tapping on his ceiling
And hopes you’ll leave a scary thought
Or melancholy feeling.
So as you’re passing by
Release your worried feel.
Let croc gobble up your fears
And enjoy a tasty meal.

And this one:

Somewhere there’s a sidewalk
Nestled in the clouds.
It’s for all the walking birds
Who are tired of flying around.
The walking birds
Use crossing walks
To cross the flying street,
Or sometimes flap a little more,
To fly up off their feet.

I think Worry Croc was my favorite, but it didn’t quite fit the contest constraints (and I couldn’t quite figure out how to edit it down), so I didn’t wind up submitting anything. Maybe next year!