POEM, OR BEAUTY HURTS MR. VINAL
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ake it from me kiddobelieve memy country, ’tis of you, land of the CluettShirt Boston Garter and SpearmintGirl With The Wrigley Eyes(of youland of the Arrow Ideand Earl &WilsonCollars)of you ising:land of Abraham Lincoln and Lydia E. Pinkham,land above all of Just Add Hot Water And Serve--from every B. V. D. let freedom ring amen. i do however protest, anent the un-spontaneous and otherwise scented merde whichgreets one (Everywhere Why) as divine poesy perthat and this radically defunct periodical. i would suggest that certain ideas gesturesrhymes, like Gillette Razor Bladeshaving been used and reusedto the mystical moment of dullness emphatically areNot To Be Resharpened. (Case in point if we are to believe these gently O sweetlymelancholy trillers amid the thrillersthese crepuscular violinists among my and yourskyscrapers--Helen&Cleopatra were Just Too Lovely,The Snail’s On The Thorn enter Morn and God’sIn His andsoforth do you get me? (accordingto such supposedly indigenousthrostles Art is O World O Lifea formula:example, Turn Your Shirttails IntoDrawers and If It Isn’t An Eastman It Isn’t AKodak therefore my friends letus now sing each and all fortissimo A-meri ca, Ilove,You. And there’re ahun-dred-mil-lion-oth-ers, likeall of you successfully ifdelicately gelded(or spaded)gentlemen(and ladies)--pretty littleliverpill-hearted-Nujolneeding-There’s-A-Reasonamericans(who tensetendoned and withupward vacant eyes, painfullyperpetually crouched, quivering, upon thesternly allotted sandpile--how silentlyemit a tiny violetflavoured nuisance:Odor? ono.comes out like a ribbon lies flat on the brush
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