Lady, you who sing soprano, Just across the court, Won't you tune that bum piano? Life at best is short, And you're making mine much briefer With those jangling strings As you sing of love or grief or Various other things. While your voice is something fearful, It's the best you've got. I must bear it and be cheerful (Though, of course, I'm not). Nature gave you that soprano, You can't alter that, But you @3can@1 tune that piano Which infests your flat. Lady, I am quite pacific, I can bear your song; Though the strain is most terrific I can get along. I will stand for that soprano With a sullen calm, But—you tune that bum piano Or I'll throw a bomb! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A PHONECALL FROM FRANK O'HARA by ANNE WALDMAN IN A MYRTLE SHADE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE FARM CHILD'S LULLABY by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE GOOD SHEPHERD by FELIX LOPE DE VEGA CARPIO A DOUBTING HEART by ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER WINTER RAIN by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI AMBITION AND CONTENT; A FABLE by MARK AKENSIDE |