That some pronouns are sexless
Is a constant source of joy
To one who can’t remember
If your kid’s a girl or boyl
by Ray Romine Friday, February 12, 1954
Author: Ray Romine
And Here’s A Careless Little Ditty For All Those Who Prefer The City
“Rise to greater heights”, they say:
“Face the rising sun each day
Full of courage. Everyone
Look–enjoy the rising sun!”
So I tried, but who can see
Through a garment factoree?
I moved; the view was quite unmarred
But for Walton’s Lumberyard,
A billboard’s jarring, lying item,
And on and on, ad infinitum;
But when the sky-line finally broke,
I saw… the locomotives’ smoke.
I’ll never see the sun unless
I take an ocean trip, I guess.
Then I suppose, ‘tween me and you,
That CLOUDS will quite obstruct the view.
by Ray Romine Thursday, August 10, 1944
And Cheaper Too
A Russian became so engrossed
In fighting with words Kremlin-dosed
That when asked at Success
If he liked it, said “Yes!
It’s as much fun as shooting–almost.”
by Ray Romine Friday, August 25, 1950
And Besides, School Starts This Month!
I hope it won’t sound like it’s pointless or silly
To mention Sentember has turned on the chilly;
For to us who-hate winter, it make’s quite a point
That the weather is throwing itself out of joint.
This edge to the morning’s predicting the frost
Which’ll mean my last round with the garden is lost.
It points to the ice and the snow and the sleeting,
The troubles with chimneys and plumbing and heating;
To the grief with our sinuses, tonsils and throat;
To the wrestling with muffler and jacket and coat;
To the fight with the car that won’t start in the mornings
(To have traded in ‘Forty-one, heeding those warnings!)
When the frost starts to heckle the pumpkins and gourds,
I envy the Calif. and Florida hordes.
(There’re some try to minimize all this by drooling,
“I love the Cold Weather!” but whom are they fooling?)
by Ray Romine Sunday, September 12, 1943
And a Cynical New Year to You, Too
Amid the sounds of revelry
And quite gay as the devil, we
Will welcome in the New Year in our fashion;
We shall sip a bit of wine,
And we’ll mangle Auld Lang Syne
With enthusiasm, fervor, and with passion.
Or an ancient Yankee custom,
We will make, so we can bust ’em,
What some joker has termed New Year Resolutions.
So we’re asked, one will perceive,
Thus naively to believe
Our problems have their choice of twop solutions:
(A) You lie, and so resolve them-
Or (B) guzzle and dissolve them….
by Ray Romine Saturday, December 30, 1950
An Ear For Music
Bing isn’t worried, and neither is Frank:
But the public is up in the air.
Which is the better?–I guess I’m a crank,
For both, I consider, are fair!
by Ray Romine Sunday, October 31, 1943
An Apple A Day Keeps The M.d. Away
A verse a day
Puts your kids at bay,
Drives your friends away,
And your wife (to stay).
Even though you pray,
A verse a day
Will work this way.
So a verse a day drives folks away?
You’d try it, hey? Well, better nay–
For still the bill-collector comes,
The mailman, and sundry bums;
And neighbors, borrowing cups of stuff;
And others, but ain’t this enough?
No, these unwelcome ones verse won’t faze–
Or, at least, it works that way with Ray’s!
A verse s. day
Just doesn’t pay.
(I ain’t been paid YET!)
by Ray Romine Thursday, November 4, 1943
Ample
The doctor said a hobby
Was just the thing I needed;
If he is out to kill me off,
He very near succeeded.
The hobby I adopted
Has made me quite unsteady.
Perhaps I should’ve told him
I had eighteen already?
by Ray Romine Sunday, December 31, 1950
American Original
We show him which fork is correct,
And how to eat his pie,
To comb his hair,which socks to wear,
And how to knot his tie.
He’s taught which books he ought to read;
Which men to emulate;
The proper sort of manly sport,
And how to clean his plate.
We teach him Please, Thank You, and Sir,
Be seen, and never heard;
To be, in fact, a bear for tact
In each sense of the word.
And let us keep our faith, for though
Sometimes he won’t be shown,
And skips the plan, he’ll be a man
Entirely on his own!
by Ray Romine Sunday, February 17, 1952
Amazing Limericks
A chap all but bald was McDaizing,
Til a pal showed him “Stories Amazing”.
We know now that you
Are gonna whisper “poo-pooh!”
But you really should see his “hair-raising”.
A young guy from Mars they called “Skeeter”
Got all hepped up ’bout rhythm and meter.
“I have it,” cried he–.
“A Shakespeare I’ll be.”
And so came the first Martian theatre!
A goon from the moon called Bub Oona
Steered for the Earth his balloona;
But a short look, and how!
Was sufficient, and now,
He’s a satisfied goona on Luna!
A Venusian dance-teacher, Zat-Gug-Ging,
To the Earth sent his two-seater chugging;
“It’s bodacious,” he cried,
“I have never quite spied
Any war dance like their jitter-bugging.”
A healthy young chap was McPhusted,
Who boasted he’d never be busted;
Til a bridge one fine day
‘Neath his half-ton gave ‘way–
A robot, McPhusted has rusted!
by Ray Romine Wednesday, December 1, 1943