Wednesday, March 07, 2007

Top Hat

Top Hat

One night, upon a red barstool
A sot beside me called me fool,
And told me if I'd any sense
I'd keep my koala behind a fence
Instead of in my hair.

And a man in rags then said to me
That fashion is pure foppery,
Less is more and more is less
But only on the edifice
It takes meat to make a lair.

The bartender who replaced my drink
Asked me if I didn't think
Wisdom the cheapest currency.
"I think I'd pour the beer for free
For an idiot with style."

Outside the bar a beggar sat
And offered me his upturned hat
And prodded me to flee the system
That makes men slaves and sharply pits 'em
on each other all the while.

I walked home through the cemetary
Where company is less contrary
For dead men never scorn the quick
Nor do they speak ill of the sick.

Manifesto, n. A long-winded appeal for what never was to an audience that never is.


Hobbes said...

In the college town where I grew up, some Danish nobility lived. I believe the husband was a pianist, the wife the nobility. Anyway, she used to appear at local concerts in her diamond tiara.
One night they gave a black tie party, and all the men were expected to wear opera hats. Circa 1960 in a Midwestern college town, only one man was found with an opera hat, so he tossed it out of the window of the room where they put coats down to the next man, who did the same, etc.
This reminded me of that.
And I think I'm first.

Sar said...

Indeed you are first & nice to follow you, Weirsdo! :)

Manifesto: My mission should I choose to except it.

Minka said...



is the poem meant to say: You only have to look in the right places, to find somebody who has it worth than you, and therefore would gladly switch palces with you.

do you mean to say better alive, than six feet under? That is the most optimistic I have heard you all week! :)

Anonymous said...

That's OK, Minka, you were first elsewhere today. I could say something about "lack of competition", but I won't. We all know who the popular curmudgeon is around here.

This has all the odor of a bad day at the office, Dawg.

MANIFESTO, n. A party in the hand is worth two on the calendar. And, please. It's MANANDWOMANIFESTO. You pig.


Minka said...

OC, that was hilarious! *claps*

The Old Mule said...

Manifesto: What you intend to never do.


And goodness. What a great poem. Here is the best..."when the company is less contrary".

The Old Mule said...

pardon moi: "Where company is less contrary"

Omnipotent Poobah said...

manifesto - A type of Italian herb & garlic seasoning added to the pasta of the perverse. Also see manipesto.

Anonymous said...

Manifesto: In an automobile engine, it supplies a mixture of fuel and air to the cylinders.

Oop, sorry -- That would be a Manifoldo.


Anonymous said...

Oh, yeah, very clever poem, too, Doug. Thanks.


Karen said...

Also see manipesto.

or pestomani!?!

oooorrrrr opestmani!?!

no, no... maniopest, yeah, yeah, THAT'S IT!!

The Boy from S.A.C.A.D.A. said...

I herd that Mister Pascova was a gentilman so i geuss he has to wear a top hat all the time.

TLP said...

Manifesto: Something that a serial killer like the Unabomber or the Zodiac killer writes to explain what was festering in them.

Great poem Doug!

mireille said...

*puts head down on desk and sobs* Oh God, whatever it is you need, take it, take it. Just don't continue with the pathos. *mood swing, brightly:* Nice poem! You're not feeling well? xoxo

Anonymous said...

love the poem -- and laughing at all these comments. i got nothing. (tho', why do i think Jenna will show up later and somehow work manifesto in with man-infestation, maybe even manifeasto? eh, don't mind me, i'm tired, and i think i maniflushoed my own mission statement down the toilet yesterday, in a fit of rage and/or confusion.)

Doug The Una said...

That's a great image, Weirsdo. The value of European nobility must be to bring humor to small midwestern towns. And, yes, it seems you are first as it was in the beginning.

Sar, is blogger gonna self-destruct again?

Minka, that would have been sunny of me.

Amoeba, it has the odor of a bleary morning at home. And that's womyn to you, pal. This isn't the first time I've been out-feminized by a male professor, by the way.

Thanks, Mule. The pardon isn't needed but it is freely offered.

Funny, Poobah. Basil's Credo. I was kind of thinking of you in your old avatar, by the way.

Al, a manifold also carries hot and noxious gas from the cylinders. I think it's called the blogofold.

That must be it, Karen. Have a pine nut.

Boy, I wear it on my pants.

Thanks, TLP. You know I'd forgotten about the Zodiac Killer. Typical Scorpio, huh?

Mireille, I wouldn't tug your heart strings if they didn't dangle so temptingly.

Thank you, Neva. I just hope Jenna doesn't go with manoyeasto.

Anonymous said...

walked home through the cemetary
Where company is less contrary

So, you missed my cemetery post? No. No, you didn't. You heaped special praise upon me for it -- so how is it you think the dead are less contrary? They tried to kill me with a tombstone!

manifesto all men cause festering of some kind.

TLP said...

"Boy, I wear it on my pants." Brag on, dawg! Don't be teachin' a kid those things. (Well, of course, a boy can sometimes use a notebook or hat for cover....)

fipddge: fiddle dee dee

TLP said...

Of course Quilly! Man is a festering sore. That's a given. Woman is a feast and more.

~Mo'a~ said...

Dear Doug, it is your manifest find yourself in the company......of folk with such currency than here I come in style.....with an idiotic smile.....and say to thee..... "Get over it, take two aspirins and call the Doc in the morrow"

~Mo'a~ said...

Grrrr!!!!meant to be....of folk with such currency AS thee

G said...

What immediately came to mind (beside that that's a grand poem) is MEAT BEAT MANIFESTO.

You could probably wear a top hat as you listen (you may even want to get out that waistcoat of yours).

Doug The Una said...

Quilly, that was a great story. The follow-up, too. To readers who don't know what we're talking about, treat yourselves to this.

TLP, and as we age the newspaper just keeps getting more interesting.

Mo'a, it serves me well to recommend to friends who have advice to lend, leave the true way on the shelf and pop a couple pills yourself.

g, I'll look forward to whatever you just linked to. By waistcoat you mean pup tent?

~Mo'a~ said...

I shall let your advise lie,however that being said,let me just just try, to thank you for the immage of a koala, on the top of a well shaped head.

The Old Mule said...

Doug, did you really say "manoyeasto"?

Anonymous said...

manifesto: I seem to always have one and it gets me nowhere, but the door

Kyahgirl said...

great poetry happening here.

manifesto: all talk and no action :-)

Jamie Dawn said...

Some dead folks wear top hats
Some wear rags
Some were bartenders
Some were hags
But all had manifestos.

tsduff said...

The last 2 stanzas
Are my mantra
Where's that hat,
I need to rant-tra

Manifesto - (rats) doesn't rhyme with anything either.

Today... wish there was a beautiful (or not so beautiful, it doesn't matter) cemetary nearby to walk peacefully through... very well done! LOVE IT!

Doug The Una said...

Mo'a it's a pleasure, especially when your koala is housebroken.

Mule, I'm pretty sure that was my invisible twin.

Pia, try posting it on a church door.

Hey, good definition, Kyah.

Jamie Dawn, it's the universal truth about the dead. Everyone died for something.

Nice work, Terry. That brought a laugh you can take with you to the graveyard.

Tawnya Shields said...

I enjoyed that little ditty. So many lessons in just one sitting. :o)

Doug The Una said...

Welcome, Titania. It was good of you to follow me home.

Thanks, Actonbell. You must have done a warehouse foreign exchange program.

Anonymous said...

You're too good and I'm finishing midterm papers so any trace of the clever has departed.

Your gonna be famous someday Dougie.

Doug The Una said...

Nah, Alice. Just one more wise aleck blogger. You save your wit for the midterms so you don't end up the same.