Spring brings the joys of love to me and you.
It stimulates the young child-murderer too.
Bad News in April 1981
Robert Garioch, the best poet in Scotland, is dead.
The wit stops coming from that remarkable singing head.
A Rough Ballad of Old Chicago
Hemingway was a Wound-and-the-Bow writer
but his mother thought he was a low writer
and all that Oak Park puritan set
didn’t dig all that sex and killing, you all can bet!
Oh, the Evil One went underground and became quite molesome
and his mother thought Ernest’s novels were unwholesome
and she certainly didn’t want him to drink
and probably, if the truth were known, she didn’t want him even to think!
So Satan must have laughed, to think her religious training
and all the other stuff, about Sin and abstaining,
gave him lifelong guilt with women, made him drink like a fish
and be a relentless killer of wild-life, mad about machismo, fulfilling Satan’s every wish!
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