Lines Composed While Eating a Meatloaf and Mustard Sandwich

Vintage Stuff Dept.: "But, Dad – it's still too long!" Thus did my daughter protest yesterday's entry, intended to satisfy her desire to see more of my fiction posted here. Let me not only offer something short, but what's probably my oldest surviving piece of work. This dates from about 1971, when I was my daughter's age, and was published in my (Ridgefield, Conn.) high school newspaper, The Argus. Apologies to E. Y. Harburg. Not to mention ongoing apologies to ever-so-patient you.

                                                                                 

The author at an awkward age.

I’d begin by quickly slaying
All couples caught displaying
Obnoxious lovers’ play,
When I felt with a fervor
That he didn’t quite deserve her
If I only had my way!

There’d be no more tacky dressing
Without my special blessing
On just a special day.
All my classmates of the nether
Would be champing at the tether
If I only had my way!

Picture me: The majesty!
A crown upon my head!
All folk of lesser breed
Would be lined up,
And slowly bled.

If these lines of my composing
Seem terribly imposing,
Or somewhat recherché;^*
If this sounds like a put-down,
Wait until I put my foot down
If I ever get my way!

                                                                                 

^{*Where the hell did I learn a word like recherché? Glad you asked. It was in the song "Sing While You Sell" by Hal Borne, Sid Kuller, and Hal Fimberg, sung by Groucho Marx in "The Big Store."↩}