Faking Sick & Falling for Poetry: My Love for Shel Silverstein

Sick by Shel Silverstein

"I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more—that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut—my eyes are blue—
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke—
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is—what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is. . .Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!"

Written By: Shel Silverstein

Photo credit: Larry Moyer

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The very first book of poetry I owned was Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein. I remember receiving it as a gift when I was probably 7 or 8, flipping through the pages, discovering how fun poetry could be. From that moment on, I was hooked.

One poem that has always stuck with me is Sick. I first fell in love with it in elementary school when we had to memorize and recite a poem in front of the class. Of all the choices, Sick was the obvious winner for me.

The poem follows little Peggy Ann McKay as she dramatically lists all the reasons she simply cannot go to school…until she realizes it’s Saturday. I think part of why I found it so funny was because, as a kid with teachers for parents, I could never pull off a sick day. They always knew when I was faking it. Maybe that’s why Sick resonated so much, it was the perfect, exaggerated version of every failed attempt at playing hooky.

Looking back, I love that this poem was one of my first introductions to poetry. It showed me that poetry isn’t just something to be analyzed or taken too seriously. It can be fun, silly, and simply just something to share. Even now, Sick reminds me of the joy in words and it never fails to make me smile. Shel Silverstein’s work has always been a huge source of inspiration for me.

Do you remember the first poem that made you fall in love with words?