I'm a calm and placid person and my temper seldom rises (You may take that with a modicum of salt). I can bear my share of troubles and of worries and surprises And it's truly very seldom I find fault. But there's one thing gets my nanny and it gets her good and plenty And my language grows cerulean in tone When I telephone—this happens fully nineteen times in twenty— And somebody snorts "WHOISTHIS?" on the phone! Then I want to bust that party where a bust is greatly needed, On the jaw bone, on the blinker, on the nose. But my wild satanic anger isn't very greatly heeded And it doubtless never will be, I suppose, Yet I'd like to use a pistol or a cutlass or a cleaver On the vast unnumbered masses who are prone To wait until my coral ear is glued to the receiver, Then bellow out "WHOISTHIS?" on the phone! I'm a calm and placid person with a kindly disposition, But I'm truly something ugly when I'm mad, And I wish I owned the tortures of the Spanish Inquisition— Every rack and grill and thumbscrew that they had. I would seize these surly parties, and with eyes that fairly glisten I would rack 'em with a fury never known. And for years I'd sit and watch 'em and for years I'd make 'em listen While I bellowed out "WHOISTHIS?" on the phone! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EXCELSIOR by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW GARDEN DAYS: 3. THE FLOWERS by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON THE MASTER BLACKSMITH by ARNOLD ANDREWS THE ACHARNIANS: A PLEA FOR THE ENEMY by ARISTOPHANES A WORD TO THE WEST END by THOMAS ASHE A NYMPH TO A YOUNG SHEPHERD, INSENSIBLE OF LOVE by PHILIP AYRES THE BOTTOM DRAWER by AMELIA EDITH HUDDLESTON BARR |