Dr. Boli makes no claims for yesterday or tomorrow; but this is the worst poetry you will read today, because after it you will have no more appetite for poetry for at least another twenty-four hours.

The Souvenir; or, Satan at Large is an anti-Democratic tirade put into allegorical verse by a resident of Cheyenne, Wyoming, in 1885. Although there is no author credited on the title page (which is dated 1887), the copyright page claims an 1885 copyright in the name of George W. Corey, who (from scattered references in books of Western travels, &c.) seems to have been one of the leading citizens of Cheyenne, which nevertheless somehow escaped being known as the Athens of the West for its thriving literary culture.

A look at the “Prelude,” which takes up only two pages, gives us such a wealth of failed rhymes that we are tempted to go no further. “Artful” is rhymed with “startle,” “pelf” with “wealth,” “earth” with “forth,” “mankind” with “whirlwinds,” “plans” with “schemes,” “station” with “politician”—to pass over many other examples.

The fun continues on every page—“hate” rhymes with “spite,” “spears” with “war”, and so on—so that we begin to wonder whether Mr. Corey’s understanding of rhyme came exclusively from political broadsides.

Aside from rhyming, our poet’s greatest difficulty seems to be in getting anywhere from anywhere else. He spends whole pages stuck in the mud, spinning in circles as he tries to reach the next idea.

“In sacred history we must search
For proof of much of Satan’s work;
Where those inspir’d by power divine
Were shown the things from earliest time.
Thus St. John the Revelator
Face to face with his Creator,
Talked of heaven, earth and hell
And the beings that in them dwell;
And saw things earthly and divine
Of past, present and future time.”

Well, it has taken us a while to arrive at the idea that St. John the Divine saw the past, present, and future, hasn’t it? But wait! There’s more! We continue with the next line:

“This old prophet, this great divine,
Who lived way back in ancient time,
While he was on the isle of Patmos
Saw grand views of heaven’s greatness;
In visions strange, weird and sublime
View’d the long vista of all past time.”

For those who gave up several lines ago, the idea our poet struggles mightily to express is that the book of Revelation tells us what happened to Satan in the distant past.

All political satire is doomed to irrelevance when the political map changes. In 1885, the Democratic Party was the party of states’ rights, the Solid South, and the Ku Klux Klan—two out of three of which are now identified with the Republicans. (It would be not only slanderous but also incorrect to identify either current party with the Ku Klux Klan, which, on our usual principle of exposing bigots to derision, can only be identified with the Funny Hats Party.) Nevertheless, some political satires achieve immortality by means of virtues that reach beyond the mere issues of the day to touch on something universal. Jonathan Swift and W. S. Gilbert satirized the politics of their day, but they pulled back the curtain of temporary political alliances to expose the universal human motivations that power politics. And Mr. George W. Corey has also reached beyond the particular to the universal. In The Souvenir; or, Satan at Large, he has given us an encyclopedia of every mistake a poet ought to avoid.

What shall we do with the drunken sailor?
What shall we do with the drunken sailor?
What shall we do with the drunken sailor,
Early in the morning?

Put him into bed in the Admiral’s quarters,
Put him into bed in the Admiral’s quarters,
Put him into bed in the Admiral’s quarters,
Early in the morning.

Sell him to the French as a pastry froster,
Sell him to the French as a pastry froster,
Sell him to the French as a pastry froster,
Early in the morning.

Sit him up and make him write a sonnet,
Sit him up and make him write a sonnet,
Sit him up and make him write a sonnet,
Early in the morning.

Hang him from the line with the captain’s corset,
Hang him from the line with the captain’s corset,
Hang him from the line with the captain’s corset,
Early in the morning.

Use him as a planter for petunias,
Use him as a planter for petunias,
Use him as a planter for petunias,
Early in the morning.

Discipline him under Secnav Instruction 5300.28E,
Discipline him under Secnav Instruction 5300.28E,
Discipline him under Secnav Instruction 5300.28E,
Early in the morning.

Contributed by Our Correspondent “dduwvmy,”
Who Unfortunately Be Not Which Famous Writer.

_

Run about in the lonesome bush
Solitary is a person revels
Record this disconsolate season
and always make people have the felling to grow to fall.

Sometimes face that big slice of defoliation
that is big slice of to fall thick and fast,
you will the facial expression cannoting help but
Be foolish to live.

Then lightly give a sigh,
the corner of mouth lightly ups a smile.
Many people of car but seem to only have your a person.

Because everyone’s look in the eyeses
all stare at in addition to window,
respectively keep in mind Chuai respectively of worry.

You have a dream, in a dream of you wear a white dress,
the barefoot is trampled very thick defoliation up,
greatly mark time of run forward.

You want to run to where?
You aren’t clear either.
Just feel and then always keep on running like this,
in the mind all of suppress all let out from the big big of breathe out.

You need noodles toward the place of ocean
and in quiet listen to that tide rise tide to fall,
seeing that sea gull is beautiful in the sky of row an a curve.

Just in river’s lake, person’s body not from F.

Your thinking of tomorrow is on Monday,
and then want to start a busy green life.

But this day think the weekend
that the night thinks unexpectedly
so the sparse inside is careless of in the past.

Is superficial of you always have happy smiling face,
moderate facial expression.

But who don’t know as well,
always have a profound solitude in the silent night oil
however rise at the your heart deep place,
even if flank asleep your most close person,
you still feel that
the in the mind is empty.

Is you to nearby of did the person have no feelings?
Not, you just have a desire, there is a life of dream.

You usually fantasize such an appearance,
quiet room, a bunch of and warm sunlight shines on
to come in from the window sill
and beat Noan-noan on the body of,
at hand put one cup steaming hot coffee,
you sit to slightly pound a keyboard before computer
and allow thoughts and feelings to flow to drip.

Unfortunately you be not which famous writer,
also the nobody can truely appreciate your literary grace.

Sometime again absolute being go toward:
“Probably wait one 2, 30, even after dying,
probably these works of mine will have more people to read
to the article.”

That several days,
you always see a be lame leg of old grandmother
walk with a cane to slowly and longly
get on the car to and then and very slowly get off,
but oddness of is her each time sit one station road.

The person on the car has some complaint:
“This appearance can also sit a bus.”

Connect the driver runs into her some in a great rageses.

Your in the mind is strange,
this station road,
there is around no house,
only an alone and helpless hilltop,
what does she come to this to do?

Until one day,
you ran into her in the website,
you stand at her wear headphones nearby
and selfishly listen to have song.

The light rain Xi Li Li frightens,
suddenly someone touched to touch your clothes,
you take off headphones a turn a face:
“It unexpectedly is her.”

Her facial expression has some to worriedly say:
“Miss, did you see xxx bus to come to have no for me?
Coming to tell me is a, my eyes see not pure.”

You say with smile:
“Be free, I also take this car.”

Prepare to put on the headphones again later on,
but hear her soliloquize over there:

“My house’s old headman gives dream
to make me come to see him every day
and lets me says with him.
Ah, I this leg isn’t good,
hereafter can not often come.”

You are suddenly some sad,
a kind of fellow sufferers understand each other feeling
arises spontaneously.

For the person of dying weep over in fact
and more should for leave of the person
feel commiseration.

Standing alone no man of this heart can solve,
she to the person of the dying the Xu Xu Dao Dao,
no one dislikes her any further bothersome.

But you, connect a persons
who can make you tell to all have no,
because you always feel that your own topic is a bit aery.

You have already accepted this society
also content with reality,
but always have repress don’t live of impulse,
let you have the viewpoint to grow elusion.

Imitate a Buddha
Be placed oneself to mysterious great universe in,
world only I only.

But you are on the whole an understand person,
dependably and hard work well own affair.

Probably wait until the year of toward sunset,
you can go together with the illustration
to own all works and make into a book
and and then lie on the rattan chair,
the leisureliness turns over and looking at.

Run about in the lonesome bush,
sign by a kind of carriage Ao of narcissistic in the crowd.

One day there will you will find out exit,
in the moment is a colorful decoration,
ten thousand purple thousand red.

Sale Discount Buy Canada Goose Canada Outlet Online.

By guest contributor Gellett Burgess.

—

THE PURPLE COW’S Projected Feast:
Reflections on a Mythic Beast,
Who’s quite Remarkable, at Least.

I never saw a Purple Cow;
I never hope to See One;
But I can Tell you, Anyhow,
I’d rather See than Be One.
 

THE PURPIL COWE: Perilla Says she Wrote it.
The Last Four lines are Mine, and So I Quote it.

A Mayde there was, semely and meke enow,
She sate a-milken of a purpil Cowe:
Rosy hire Cheke as in the Month of Maye,
And sikerly her merry Songe was gay
As of the Larke vprift, washen in Dewe;
Like Shene of Sterres, sperkled hire Eyen two.
Now came ther by that Way a hendy Knight
The Mayde espien in morwening Light.
A faire Person he was—of Corage trewe
With lusty Berd and Chekes of rody Hewe:
Dere Ladye (quod he) far and wide I’ve straied
Vncouthe Aventure in straunge Contrie made
Fro Berwicke unto Ware. Pardé I vowe
Erewhiles I never faw a purpil Cowe!
Fayn wold I knowe how Catel thus can be?
Tel me I pray you, of yore Courtesie!
The Mayde hire Milken stent—Goode Sir she saide,
The Master’s Mandement on vs ylaid
Decrees that in these yclept gilden Houres
Hys Kyne shall ete of nought but Vylet Floures!

 

CONFESSION: and a Portrait Too,
Upon a Background that I Rue.

Ah, yes, I wrote the “Purple Cow”—
I’m Sorry, now, I wrote it;
But I can tell you Anyhow
I’ll Kill you if you Quote it!
 
This essay and hundreds of pages of other amusements may be found in Dr. Boli’s Anthology of American Humor, now available in splendid paperback or as a free PDF download. Look at the PDF, and if you think this book is exactly what you need to distribute to the poor children of Friesland, buy the paperback book.

By Guest Contributor Ben King.

 

Oh, love! let us love with a love that loves,
    Loving on with a love forever;
For a love that loves not the love it should love—
    I wot such a love will sever.
But, when two loves love this lovable love,
    Love loves with a love that is best;
And this love-loving, lovable, love-lasting love
    Loves on in pure love’s loveliness.

Oh, chide not the love when its lovey-love loves
    With lovable, loving caresses;
For one feels that the lovingest love love can love,
    Love on in love’s own lovelinesses.
And love, when it does love, in secret should love—
    ’Tis there where love most is admired;
But the two lovey-loves that don’t care where they love
    Make the public most mightily tired.

 

This poem and hundreds of pages of other amusements may be found in Dr. Boli’s Anthology of American Humor, now available in splendid paperback or as a free PDF download. Look at the PDF, and if you think this book is exactly what your cousin Elspacious needs for Christmas, buy the paperback book.

 

Traditional nursery rhymes may appear at first glance to be mere pleasant nonsense, but they often conceal a sharply satirical reference to events and personalities long forgotten.

—

No. 1. “Baa, Baa, Black Sheep.”

Baa, baa, black sheep, have you any wool?
Yes, marry have I, three bags full.
One for my master, one for my dame,
And one for the little boy who lives down the lane.

The “black sheep” who claims to have wool for everyone represents leftist radicals who would distribute the nation’s goods (represented under the similitude of bags of wool) on a basis of strict equality to the three estates, ignoring considerations of merit and desert. We may, however, reassure ourselves that the sheep comes to an ill end, as recounted in another popular nursery rhyme:

Black sheep, black sheep,
    Cute as a button,
Black sheep, black sheep,
    Soon you’ll be mutton.