Installment #3 of a set of children's poems I wrote a dozen years ago.
What if rubber was in everything?
Short skirts could be stretched to make them long.
Swords would wilt, and bullets mildly sting.
Knitting would be dangerous and wrong.
Anything you threw would boomerang:
Bricks, an egg, a sister (not too young).
Hanging plants would lurch instead of hang.
What you spat could land back on your tongue.
Crashing cars would ricochet and twang.
No one would wear any kind of thong.*
Meetings would begin when people sang
To synchronize their bounces with a song.
And given all the spring in everything,
A tug would turn a swing into a sling.
* Fearing that a thong might be deemed too racy a detail, I proposed as an alternate here the line 'Skyscrapers would oscillate King Kong.'