here is little Effie's head <br />whose brains are made of gingerbread <br />when judgment day comes <br />God will find six crumbs <br /> <br />stooping by the coffinlid <br />waiting for something to rise <br />as the other somethings did- <br />you imagine his surprise <br /> <br />bellowing through the general noise <br />Where is Effie who was dead? <br />-to God in a tiny voice, <br />i am may the first crumb said <br /> <br />whereupon its fellow five <br />crumbs chuckled as if they were alive <br />and number two took up the song <br />might i'm called and did no wrong <br /> <br />cried the third crumb, i am should <br />and this is my little sister could <br />with our big brother who is would <br />don't punish us for we were good; <br /> <br />and the last crumb with some shame <br />whispered unto God, my name <br />is must and with the others i've <br />been Effie who isn't alive <br /> <br />just imagine it I say <br />God amid a monstrous din <br />watch your step and follow me <br />stooping by Effie's little, in <br /> <br />(want a match or can you see?) <br />which the six subjective crumbs <br />twitch like mutilated thumbs; <br />picture His peering biggest whey <br /> <br />coloured face on which a frown <br />puzzles, but I know the way- <br />(nervously Whose eyes approve <br />the blessed while His ears are crammed <br /> <br />with the strenuous music of <br />the innumerable capering damned) <br />-staring wildly up and down <br />the here we are now judgment day <br /> <br />cross the threshold have no dread <br />lift the sheet back in this way <br />here is little Effie's head <br />whose brains are made of gingerbread<br /><br />Edward Estlin Cummings<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/here-is-little-effie-s-head/
