My heart is like one asked to dine Whose evening dress is up the spout; My heart is like a man would be Whose raging tooth is half pulled out. My heart is like a howling swell Who boggles on his upper C; My heart is madder than all these — My wife's mamma has come to tea. Raise me a bump upon my crown, Bang it till green in purple dies; Feed me on bombs and fulminates, And turncocks of a medium size. Work me a suit in crimson apes And sky-blue beetles on the spree; Because the mother of my wife Has come — and means to stay with me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...YOUTH IMPERTURBABLE by CONRAD AIKEN CONTRA MORTEM: THE MOUNTAIN FASTNESS by HAYDEN CARRUTH THOUGHTS OF A TINY PIG by DAVID IGNATOW AND THE GREATEST OF THESE IS WAR by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON CITIES OF THE PLAIN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TOWARD THE GULF; DEDICATED TO THEODORE ROOSEVELT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS A LETTER ON THE USE OF MACHINE GUNS AT WEDDINGS by KENNETH PATCHEN |