On Looking into Waring’s Pennsylvanians (Poem)

Oh, Waring–
Where is the Glee in thy Club?
Whither the simple delight of thy old Victors,
Spun and radiated at seventy-eight revolutions?

Yes, we were Collegiate–
Well, you know College Boys;
Degree in hand,
It is time to start punching that cash register
Like a Swiss Bell Ringer.

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Whence the glory of Glorianna,
Glowing with the heat of a thousand suns?
Keep away from that implosion
When well-shav’d youth
Chant hypnotically of Amber Waves of Grain.

I would macerate that grain for ferment
That it may be decanted into
That Stein Upon the Table–
A beer to weep into
To mourn lost ‘Twenties joy–
Alas and shellac.[ad_dropper zone_id=”1100″][ad_dropper zone_id=”914″][ad_dropper zone_id=”1088″][ad_dropper zone_id=”1126″]

Andy Senior is the Publisher of The Syncopated Times and on occasion he still gets out a Radiola! podcast for our listening pleasure.

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