In Other Words/On a Certain Propensity of Bootblacks
On a Certain Propensity of Bootblacks to
Toy with the Shoelaces of the Shinee
Polishing little rapscallion, Shining away at my shoes,Be thou or Greek or Italian, Thou art the one I accuse;Ruin my tans with thy tarnish, That were a crime to condone,But, when thou smearest the varnish, Leave thou my laces alone!
Utterly spoil and demolish All of the calfskin I wear,Wreak, with thy poisonous polish, Ruin—’tis little I care.But, as thou needest thy nickel, Listen to me as I moan:“Cease thou mine ankles to tickle! Leave thou my laces alone!”
Fiend, how thou watchest me wriggle! Ghoul, how thou watchest me wince!Whiles that thou hidest a giggle Under thy Genoan squints.Hark! I shall—be this a warning Final and straight from my throne!Kick in thy features some morning, An thou leav’st not my laces alone!