On bright moonlit bluff
O'er a river bedotted with boulder,
I met Assemblyman Smythe
Looking pale, talking tough,
And growing each moment both madder and older.
The wind gave a yowl,
In the distance wolves bayed,
And the pillar pulled the cigar from his tongue.
He jiggled his jowl,
Lowered eyes like he prayed
And recalled when his office was but recently won.
"I answered the call,"
His voice rumbled and wavered,
"That the people sent me to protect them-
I sheltered them all,
Returned every favor
And dispatched hordes of functionaries to inspect them."
He looked down at the foam
And the hard stones below,
Gave a sigh and let out with a shiver.
He lowered his dome,
But I pulled him back fro
and cried, "Sir, you mustn't, or you'll pollute the river."
MINGENT, adj. Self-wetting, as voters in a dry county.
5 comments:
Still cannot tell what a mingent is or what the poem is about, for that matter, but I like it very much. Funny how "I answered the call." sounds just so ominous from his mouth, isn't it usually a good thing to do, though?
Oh, Doug, ew!
Oh, Actonbell, the NY subways have a very unique smell.
Mingent: an abhorrent deed indeed when done in a river.
@Nessa: you are so right!
Mingent, describes the folks at any event where beverages are served, and too few porta potties have been assigned.
Why is there wind down there, anyway, Actonbell?
Ariel, depends who is calling. If it is the people, usually not.
So, Nessa, I get an "ew" while Actonbell's pungent wind wins your enthusiasm?
TLP, or a pool, right?
Cooper, ew!
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