Calvin and Hobbes Poetry
Over the years, Bill Watterson has scattered poems throughout the daily strip and books. They are usualy spoken by Calvin, but occasionaly are used as a narrative of a story. The following are some examples.

A Nauseous Nocturne
Another night deprived of slumber,
Hours passing without number,
My eye trace 'round the room. I lay

Dripping sweat and now quite certain
That tonight the final curtain
Drops upon my life's short precious play.

From the darkness, by the closet
Comes a noise, much like a faucet
Makes: a madd'ning drip-drip-dripping sound.

It seems some ill-proportioned beast,
Anticipating me deceased,
Is drooling poison puddles on the ground..

A can of mace, a forty-five,
Is all I'd need to stay alive,
But no weapon lies within my sight.

Oh my gosh! A shadow's creeping,
Ominous ans black, it's seeping
Slowly 'cross a moonlit square of light!

Suddenly a floorboard creak
Anounces the bloodsucking freak
Is here to steal my future years away!
A sulf'rous smell now fills the room
Heralding my imm'nent doom!
A fang gleams in the dark and murky gray!

Oh, blood-red eyes a tentacles!
Throbbing, pulsing ventricles!
Mucus-oozing porses and frightful claws!

Worse, in terms of outright scariness,
Are the suckers multifarious
That grab and force you in its mighty jaws!
This disgusting aberration
Of nature needs no motivation
To devour helpless children in their beds.
Relishing despairing moans,
It chews kids up and sucks their bones,
And disolves inside its mouth their li'l heads!

I know this 'cause I read it not
Two hours ago and then I got
The heebie-jeebies and these awful shakes.

My parents swore upon their honor
That I was safe, and not a goner.
I guess tomorrow they'll see their sad mistakes.

In the morning, they'll come in
And say, "What was that awful din
We heard last night? You kept us both from sleep!"

Only then will they surmise
The gruesomeness of my demise
And see that my remains are in a heap.

Dad will look at Mom and say,
"Too bad he had to go that way."
And Mom will look at Dad and nod assent.

Mom will add, "Still, it's fitting,
That as he was this world quiting,
He should leave another mess before he went."
They may not miss me first, I know.
They will miss me later, though,
And perhaps admit that they were wrong.
As memories of me grow dim,
They'll say, "We were too strict with him.
We should have listened to him all along."

As speedily my end approaches,
I bid a final "buenas noches"
To my best friend in the world.
Gently snoring, whiskers seeming
To sniff at smells (he must be dreaming),
He lies snuggled in the blackets curled.

Suddenly the monster knows I'm not alone!

There's an animal in bed with me!
an awful beast he did not see!
The monster never would've come if he had know!

The monster, in his confernation,
Demonstrates defenestration,
And runs and runs and runs and runs away.

Rid of the pest,
I now can rest,
Thanks to my best friend, who saved the day.
©1989 Bill Watterson

This poem was written and illustrated by Watterson to be included in the front of The Essential Calvin and Hobbes. The illustrations, taking up 12 full pages, are wonderful. Watterson commented on this in the Tenth Anniversary Book: "I took advantage of the oppurtunity to paint all the illustrations in watercolor, which permitted various subtleties and effects I couldn't get into the Sunday strips."


While lying on my back to make an angel in the snow,
I saw a greenish craft appear! a giant UFO!

A strange, unearthly hum it made! It hovered oeverhead!
And aliens were moving 'round in viewing ports glowing red!

I tried to run for cover, but a hook that they had low'r'd
Snagged me by my overcoat and hoisted me aboard!

Even then, I tried to fight, and though they numbered many,
I poked them in their compund eyes and pulled on their antannae!

It was no use! They dragged me to a platform, tied me up,
And wired to my cranium a fiendish suction cup!

They turned it on and current coursed across my cerebellum,
Coaxing things from my brain tissue, the things I wouldn't tell 'em!

All the math I ever learned, the numbers and equations,
Were mechanic'ly removed in this brain-draining operation!

My escape was an adventure. (I won't tell you what I did.)
But suffice to say, I cannot add, so ask some other kid.
©1992 Bill Watterson

This poem, part of a Sunday strip, appear on page 102 of Attack of the Deranged Mutant Killer Monster Snow Goons. At the end of the story, we see that Calvin has been repeating this for Miss Wormwood, who has written a math problem on the board.