Every night when I hitch the elastic Which fastens my vest to my pants, I agree with the viewpoint monastic: It's a silly amusement to dance, To handle a gun or a lance -- There's a man's job; but dancing -- aw, thunder! (Or la! la! as spoken in France) Why do I like it, I wonder? Aside from the somewhat fantastic Idea some persons advance, That the fox-trot and waltz are gymnastic, It's a silly amusement to dance, One trips over young debutantes -- (The evening's one vast social blunder), Or stumbles around with one's aunts; Why do I like it, I wonder? Am I mistakenly drastic? Am I as one who but rants, Knowing nothing? Or am I just plastic? It's a silly amusement to dance, That's sure . . . (Hark! The waltz from "Penzance"! Or is it "Get Out and Get Under"? Anyway, it's a strange dissonance -- Why do I like it, I wonder?) @3L'Envoi@1 Say, kid! Come on -- take a chance! (It's a silly amusement to dance, But I can't have her think that I shunned her.) Why do I like it? I wonder! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OLD BLACK MEN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON EPITAPH ON THE ADMIRABLE DRAMATIC POET, WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE by JOHN MILTON ZION, OR THE CITY OF GOD by JOHN NEWTON SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 50 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SONNET: 36 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE JUNE BRACKEN AND HEATHER by ALFRED TENNYSON |