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Write the first chapter to the sequel of your favorite banned book.
Long or short, give us your spin on the continuation of your most-loved banned classic.
Cover image for post I No Longer See It on Mulberry Street, by dustygrein

I No Longer See It on Mulberry Street

I used to walk home from school each day,

then report back to Pop, what I saw on my way.

I'd imagine all sorts of things wondrous and neat,

in my mind, with my brain, on old Mulberry Street.

But now if I tell him about all those things

There's simply no end to the trouble it brings.

I can't say a person's from this place or that,

and I can't ever say that they're skinny or fat...

Imagining things about genders or races,

or hair that might grow under arms or on faces,

why that might disgust them! It might make them sad!

It might even offend them, and THAT would be bad!

So what should I say about the people I've met?

The rules have changed, and there is no safe bet...

It's all so confusing, these pronouns and such,

(THEY used to be plural... it's all a bit much.)

If I meet someone new, and I ask where they're from,

or if they like movies, or if they chew gum,

their answers might lead me to see that we two

are a little bit different, and that just won't do!

It seems that the people in power today

want everyone else to feel the just the same way.

We all should be equal, yet still be diverse,

without seeing the changes they make are lots worse.

I once saw the milkman, in a broken-down cart

being pulled by a horse, and it warms my heart

to remember the things I imagined that day,

before the thought police took my stories away...

I imagined a Chinaman, eating with sticks,

(Some do, by the way; I can show you the pics!)

but they found it offensive, that one single line

and now no one can read those great thoughts from my mind.

The zebra and chariot, the raja with gems,

the mayor and aldermen, what about them?

Now I walk quietly and just stare at my feet,

and pretend I see nothing, on Mulberry Street.

© 2024 - dustygrein

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The loss of classic children's poetry by Theodore Geisel (aka Dr. Seuss) is not only heart-breaking, but feels almost criminal. I really detest that we are trying our best to whitewash history, and pretend that even the simplest of sterotypes are somehow dangerous for people to read or see...