The Wuggly Ump, by Edward Gorey

In reference to Joey Schuster's blog about Layla and Hobie, http://joeyschuster.com/node/32, here's my art connection, from The Wuggly Ump by Edward Gorey. This is the part of the poem that I was reminded of by Joey's cat peering over the arm of the couch. The poem is strange and dark, and exactly the kind of thing I was raised on as a child (my parents were unconventional). I'll bring the book to class, so you all can see the rest of the illustrations, but as I was typing it out below, I thought of how interesting it is to read the poem without visual aid!

The Wuggly Ump, by Edward Gorey

Sing tirraloo, sing tirralay,
The Wuggly Ump lives far away.

It eats umbrellas, gunny sacks,
Brass doorknobs, mud, and carpet tacks.

How most unpleasing, to be sure!
It's other habits are obscure.

Sing jigglepin, sing jogglepen,
The Wuggly Ump has left its den.

We pass our happy childhood hours
In weaving endledd chains of flowers.

Across the hills the Wuggly Ump
Is hurtling on, kerbash, kerblump!

When play is over, we are fed.
On wholesome bowls of milk and bread.

Sing hushaboo, sing hushaby,
The Wuggly Ump is drawing nigh.

The moon is full: its silver beams
Shine down and give us lovely dreams.

Sing twiddle-ear, sing twaddle-or,
The Wuggly Ump is at the door.

It's making an unholy fuss;
Why has is come to visit us?

What nasty little wilful eyes
For anything of such a size!

How uninviting are its claws!
How even more so are its jaws!

Sing glogalimp, sing glugalump,
From deep inside the Wuggly Ump.