The Boon of Discontent
Once an anthropoidal ape,
Hairy, savage, strange of shape,
On a day that was excessively B.C.,
In a forest damp and dim,
With his tail round a limb,
Hung head downward from a neolithic tree;
And appeared to be lost in gloomy introspection.
In his dull primeval style,
He considered quite a while
A comparatively thoughtful ape was he
Then he drummed upon his chest,
And remarked: 'I give it best!
Strike me lucky! This 'ere game's no good to me!
And I'm full up of the whole damn business!'
To the father of the tribe
He proceeded to describe
How upon a change of living he was bent.
Said the Tory anthropoid:
'Son, such thoughts you should avoid:
They are obviously born of discontent.
And such revolutionary notions would rend the whole social fabric.'
Since the Eocene,
Till this age of biplanes,
Man has ever been
Yearning toward the high planes.
And while the Tory lags behind in by-ways worn and narrow,
'Tis the discontented section that shoves on the old world's barrow.
Once a naked troglodyte,
On a bitter Winter's night,
Sat and shivered in his cave the whole night through!
For his scanty coat of hair
In no manner could compare
With the matted clothes his late forefather grew.
(Meaning the meditative anthropoidal ape I mentioned previously.)
And the troglodyte remarked,
As without a wild dog barked,
And a dinosaurus lumbered through the fog,
'I am sick of nakedness,
And I'd like, I must confess,
To be shielded in the clothing of a dog.
And, hang me, if I don't go after one in the morning.'
He was met with scoffs and grins,
When he walked abroad in skins:
And the troglodyte Conservatives cried: 'Shame!
Thus to hide the healthy nude
Is obscene, indecent rude!'
But the malcontent felt warmer, all the same.
[...] Read more
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Added by Poetry Lover
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