American Digest banner – “A poet more than thirty years old is simply an overgrown child.” – H. L. Mencken
Where did I put my tinkertoys
Who took my ball and glove
How dare I write of girls and boys
Too young to know of love
Throw out all your Rudyard Kiplings
That mildish childish man
Who wrote of war and Empire’d things
Insisting that you can
And what of songs that Tennyson sang
About fair Camelot
In words that down the ages rang
That will not be forgot
Of course I’m not a poet so
It’s all right if I rhyme
But if I’m just a child I know
I’ve been here a good long time
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