Category: Friends

Of the friends considered sappy,
None of them makes me foment
Like the cad who’s shutter happy
At my every awkward moment.

by Ray Romine Thursday, August 30, 1951

We’re disintegrating:
On guests we are waiting–
Oh surely they’ll come any minute;
An hour or over
We’ve looked each car over,
Hoping our friends would be in it.

Flo’s wearing the rug out,
She’s pacing the dug-out;
She’s fidgety, jumpy, and nervous.
She’s hither and thither;
She pauses a-dither
At the lunch she’s been hoping to serve us.

And as it gets later
Her tension is greater;
She fusses the lamp-shades and flowers.
She bounces, she stutters,
She prances and flutters,
As the minutes grow slowly to hours.

She re-does her make-up,
Gives curtains a shake-up;
She changes her gum and her lip-stick;
She straightens the fixtures,
Including the pictures,
And journeys a frantic elliptic.

“Oh how can we teach them–
What lesson would reach them,
Demonstrating inertia is folly?
The brain seems submitting
This thought as befitting:
We’ll serve them their breakfast”–how jolly!

by Ray Romine Friday, August 20, 1943

A fellow I know christened “Elicker”
Is a heartless sort of a felicker:
For he cutteth capers
With armfuls of papers,
And he will, until he’s a relic-er!

by Ray Romine Saturday, February 19, 1944

When I need them for my ends,
How I sing the praise of friends;
Pardon me, though, my insouciance,
When, at times, they are a nouciance…

by Ray Romine Friday, September 26, 1947