I KIN hump my back and take the rain, And I don't keer how she pours; I kin keep kind o' ca'm in a thunderstorm, No matter how loud she roars; I hain't much skeered o' the lightnin', Ner I hain't sich awful shakes Afeard o' @3cyclones@1 -- but I don't want none O' yer dad-burned old earthquakes! As long as my legs keeps stiddy, And long as my head keeps plum', And the buildin' stays in the front lot, I still kin whistle, @3some!@1 But about the time the old clock Flops off'n the mantel-shelf, And the bureau skoots fer the kitchen, I'm a-goin' to skoot, myself! Plague-take! ef you keep me stabled While any earthquakes is around! -- I'm jes' like the stock, -- I'll beller And break fer the open ground! And I 'low you'd be as nervous And in jes' about my fix, When yer whole farm slides from inunder you, And on'y the mor'gage sticks! Now cars hain't a-goin's to kill you Ef you don't drive 'crost the track; Crediters never'll jerk you up Ef you go and pay 'em back; You kin stand all moral and mundane storms Ef you'll on'y jes' behave -- But a' EARTHQUAKE: -- Well, ef it wanted you It 'ud husk you out o' yer gravel | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AUCTION: ANDERSON GALLERIES by LOUIS UNTERMEYER A PRAYER FOR INDIFFERENCE by FRANCES (FANNY) MACARTNEY GREVILLE ULTIMA THULE: THE TIDE RISES by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW ON LAYING THE CORNER-STONE OF THE BUNKER HILL MOMUMENT by JOHN PIERPONT A LEAVE-TAKING by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE THE BOOK OF THE LETTER, SELECTION by ABRAHAM ABULAFIA TWELVE SONNETS: 11. FIRST, BATTLE; THEN, WOMAN by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |