IN the newspaper office -- who are the spooks? Who wears the mythic coat invisible? Who pussyfoots from desk to desk with a speaking forefinger? Who gumshoes amid the copy paper with a whispering thumb? Speak softly -- the sacred cows may hear. Speak easy -- the sacred cows must be fed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 19. THE FAIRY QUEEN PROSERPINA by THOMAS CAMPION YOUR MISSION by ELLEN M. HUNTINGTON GATES THE BRAES OF YARROW by JOHN LOGAN (1748-1788) THE BARREL-ORGAN by ALFRED NOYES TO A BLOCKHEAD by ALEXANDER POPE AMORETTI: 30 by EDMUND SPENSER THE LADY OF SHALOTT by ALFRED TENNYSON |