MY PIPE is old And caked with soot; My wife remarks: "How can you put That horrid relic, So unclean, Inside your mouth? The nicotine Is strong enough To stupefy A Swedish plumber." I reply: "This is the kind Of pipe I like: I fill it full Of Happy Strike, Or Barking Cat Or Cabman's Puff, Or Brooklyn Bridge (That potent stuff) Or Chaste Embraces, Knacker's Twist, Old Honeycomb Or Niggerfist. I clamp my teeth Upon its stem -- It is my bliss, My diadem. Whatever Fate May do to me, This is my favorite B B B. For this dear pipe You feign to scorn I smoked the night The boy was born." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SIMON SURNAMED PETER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS MY MADONNA by ROBERT WILLIAM SERVICE THE PRINCESS: SONG by ALFRED TENNYSON WHAT THE BIRDS SAID by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER PSALM 65 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |