ABDICATION.
THore are too many poets; competition. Is hot and heavy in the rhyming- trade, And (to be frank) I havo a. dark suspicion. That after all the work is underpaid. And I have always yearned to be a. grocer And sell the freshest eggs were ever henned,, . Or cay to fretful customers, "Oh, no, -sir, That brand we do not care to recommend !" So I shall sell my rhyming dictionary,' And in some neat little suburban block Between a Chinese laundry and a dairy I'll buy a store and there display my stock. _ ' . The windows will be full of jams and cocoas, ' ■, And there will be a glass case, of cigars, And canisters of. spice from Orinoco, Prunes, gingerbread, and castile soapin bars. / Forgetful of my literary vices, I'll revel in my barrels, tins, and kegs; If editors should come, I'll raise my prices And sell them uneertificated eggs. But if I see the man who, in reviewing My masterpieces, called them grand and fine, ... I'll give him free my sugar, citron, bluing, Tea, olives, trips, potato chips, and wine. • ' ■ . —Chnstoper Money. , New York Times.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/EP19180810.2.89.1
Bibliographic details
Evening Post, Volume XCVI, Issue 36, 10 August 1918, Page 11
Word Count
186ABDICATION. Evening Post, Volume XCVI, Issue 36, 10 August 1918, Page 11
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