#Americans #XXCentury
Bring down the moon for genteel J… She’s too refined for this gross p… She wears garments and you wear cl… You buy stockings, she purchases h… She say That is correct, and you…
Oh, “rorty” was a mid-Victorian w… Which meant “fine, splendid, jolly… And often to me it has reoccurred In moments melancholy. For instance, children, I think i…
There was a young belle of Natche… Whose garments were always in patc… When comment arose On the state of her clothes, She drawled, When Ah itchez, Ah…
Who is the happy husband? Why, in… 'Tis he who’s useless in the time… Who, asked to unclasp a bracelet o… Contrives to be utterly futile, fu… Or when a zipper nips his loved on…
O Duty, Why hast thou not the visage of a… Why displayest thou the countenanc… conscientious organizing spinster That the minute you see her you ar…
This is my dream, It is my own dream, I dreamt it. I dreamt that my hair was kempt. Then I dreamt that my true love u…
Go hang yourself, you old M.D.! You shall not sneer at me. Pick up your hat and stethoscope, Go wash your mouth with laundry so… I contemplate a joy exquisite
From whence arrived the praying ma… From outer space, or lost Atlanti… glimpse the grin, green metal mug at masks the pseudo-saintly bug, Orthopterous, also carnivorous,
A child need not be very clever To learn that “Later, dear” means…
But he went and tried to borrow some money from Ferdinand But Ferdinand said America was a bird in the bush and he’d rather have a berdinand, And he thought, there is no wife like a m...
The camel has a single hump; The dromedary, two; Or else the other way around. I’m never sure. Are you?
Behold the hippopotamus! We laugh at how he looks to us, And yet in moments dank and grim, I wonder how we look to him. Peace, peace, thou hippopotamus!
The cow is of bovine ilk; One end is moo, the other is milk.
Peekabo, I Almost See You Middle-aged life is merry, and I… But there comes a day when your ey… And your friends get jocular, so y… And of all your friends he is the…
Master I may be, But not of my fate. Now come the kisses, too many too… Tell me, O Parcae, For fain would I know,