Classic Poem

They tried to hand it to us on a platter,
Us hit in the eyes with marconigrams from moon dancers —
And the bubble busted, went flooey, on a thumb touch.

So this time again, Humpty,
We cork our laughs behind solemn phizzogs,
Sweep the floor with the rim of our hats
And say good-a-by and good-a-by, just like that.

Tomorrow maybe they will be hit
in the eyes with marconigrams
From moon dancers.
Good-a-by, our hats and all of us say good-a-by.