If you hear a learned barking, son,
That’ll be my friend, Booth Tarkington
Who, when literary matters slack,
At poets takes a nasty crack.
Whether you hail from a mansion or hovel
You SHOULD immerse in a Tarkington novel;
But should you read VERSE, he’ll hand you a slam and
Tell you to have your head examand.
Since this guy has himself a name,
Us folks can’t risk the awful shame
Of getting caught. So now this is out,
We’ll absorb our verse around about.
Yes, now our friend has let this slip,
We’ll wear our couplets on the hip.
We’ll have to read it on the sly,
Or decent folk will pass us by.
If you’d read a lush rondeau,
Mustn’t let the neighbors know.
What hide you, fair one, in your bonnet–
Rye or gin, or just a sonnet?
Since poetry is still ny cherce,
I hope his “do not” does for verse
(And if it does, then I’ll not bicker)
What PROHIBITION did for LICKER!!
by Ray Romine Sunday, February 6, 1944
