Les Millwin
The little Millwins attend the Russian Ballet.
The mauve and greenish souls of the little Millwins
Were seen lying along the upper seats
Like so many unused boas.
The turbulent and undisciplined host of art students—
The rigorous deputation from “Slade”—
Was before them.
With arms exalted, with fore-arms
Crossed in great futuristic X’s, the art students
Exulted, they beheld the splendours of Cleopatra.
And the little Millwins beheld these things;
With their large and anæmic eyes they looked out upon this configuration.
Let us therefore mention the fact,
For it seems to us worthy of record.
Further Instructions
Come, my songs, let us express our baser passions,
Let us express our envy of the man with a steady job
and no worry about the future.
You are very idle, my songs.
I fear you will come to a bad end.
You stand about in the streets,
You loiter at the corners and bus-stops
You do next to nothing at all.
You do not even express our inner nobilities,
You will come to a very bad end.
And I?
I have gone half cracked,
I have talked to you so much that
I almost see you about me,
Insolent little beasts, shameless, devoid of clothing!