Shuck you dandy pearl.
Where’s that backward wisdom gone to
Now I’ve clasped
and rattle smashed
That smirk you wore with such aplomb?

Here. Hold it here beside the anvil.
Hold it still.
The talk of town, they say. They told me,
All the noisome natterings fit for wagging chins
And wrinkled noses.
Really. Is that what’s left of roses in our time?

Shuck you and your yolky whites.
There ain’t a chance in China I’d let you eat out of my rice bowl.
Time was, you called the rusty moon
A penny, landing always heads.
Did you get that out of your little red book too?
So much for destiny.

Stir it up.
You were always good at turning yesterday’s leftovers
Into another day’s leftovers,
Even if the carcass had been picked clean
By the reign of Queen Victoria.
Pardon me, but the soup really was a bit thin.

Shuck you dandy pearl.
Shuck you and that broken gurgle.
I don't hear it now, or your endless Chinese wisdom.
Hold it still. Hold it here beside the hammer.
You’ll see,
We’ll be the talk of town

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