Classic Poem

Emits a Few Bubbles .

I

CHEESES

I am the king of the rats.
And all my thoughts are little mice.
They have a great way of running everywhere,
And a greater hunger.
Nothing will satisfy their ferocious appetite —
Not even when they have devoured the world,
And gnaw on the thin, gray rind
Of the mouldy skies.

II

COLUMBUS CIRCLE

Is this China?
Something tells me it must be.
It may be the fantastically-colored Chop-Suey joint
Above the Child's restaurant at the corner.
Or it may be the lone traffic policeman
Standing like a blue Buddha
With his one eternally upraised arm.
Or it may be the mass of amber electric lights
Dropping from the sign boards,
Like globules of gold perspiration
From a Chinaman's yellow brow.