THE GRACKLE OF GROG

It was old Yale College

Made me what I am—

You oughto heard my mother

When I first said damn!

I put a pin in sister's chair,

She jumped sky-high ...

I don't know what'll happen

When I come to die!

But oh, the stars burst wild in a glorious crimson whangle,

There was foam on the beer mile-deep, mile-high, and the pickles were piled like seas,

Nœara's hair was a flapper's bob that turned to a ten-mile tangle,

And the forests were crowded with unicorns, and gold elephants charged up trees!

Forceps in the dentist's chair,

Razors in the lather ...

Lord, the black experience

I've had time to gather ...

But I've thought of one thing

That may pull me through—

I'm a reg'lar devil

But the Devil was, too!

There were thousands of trees with knotholed knees that kicked in a league-long rapture,

Birds green as a seasick emerald in a million-mile shrieking row—

It was sixty dollars or sixty days when the cop had made his capture....

But God! the bun was a gorgeous one, and the Faculty did not know!

Lola Ridge

(Who apparently did not care for the suburbs.)