Merveilleuses des nos Jours
(1914)
“I will now call on Alberic Morphine to give us a reading.” ...
The rows of young women look up; their eyes glisten; they shiver
With the kind of emotion that’s really very misleading.
All have fine eyes, yellow faces, vile clothes and “a liver.”
They smoke a great deal, bathe little, and wear no stays;
Their artistic garments are made on the Grecian plan;
They flock in their crowds to the latest “poetic” plays;
And aspire to a union of souls—with some pimply young man.