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Hermione
The Cheap and easy paradox
The Fool springs, hoping that it shocks….
Brain-sick, I stumbled to the street
And drooled unto a kindly Cop:
"Since moons have feathers on their feet,
Why is your headgear perched on top?
And if you scorn the Commonplace,
Why wear a Nose upon your Face?
And since Pythagoras is mute
On Sex Hygiene and Cosmic Law,
Is your Blonde Beast as Bland a Brute,
As Blind a Brute, as Bernard Shaw?
No doubt, when drilling through the parks,
With Ibsen's Ghost and Old Doc Marx,
You’ve often seen two Golden Souls
Drink Suds and Sobs from Crystal Bowls?"
"I ain’t," he says, "I ain’t, Old Kid,
And I would pinch ’em if I did!"
"Thank God," I said, "for this, at least:
The world, in spots, is well policed!"
