William, it was, I think, three years ago-- <br />As I recall, one cool October morning-- <br />(You have The Tribune files; I think they'll show <br />I gave you warning). <br /> <br />I said, in well-selected words and terse, <br />In phrases balanced, yet replete with power, <br />That I should cease to pen the prose and verse <br />Known as The Tower <br />That I should stop this Labyrinth of Light-- <br />Though stopping make the planet leaden-hearted-- <br />Unless you stop the well-known Schrecklichkeit <br />Your nation started. <br /> <br />I printed it in type that you could read; <br />My paragraphs were thewed, my rhymes were sinewed. <br />You paid, I judge from what ensued, no heed . . . <br />The war continued. <br /> <br />And though my lines with fortitude were fraught, <br />Although my words were strong, and stripped of stuffing, <br />You, William, thought--oh, yes, you did--you thought <br />That I was bluffing. <br /> <br />You thought that I would fail to see it through! <br />You thought that, at the crux of things, I'd cower! <br />How little, how imperfectly you knew <br />The Conning Tower! <br /> <br />You'll miss the column at the break of day. <br />I have no fear that I shall be forgotten. <br />You'll miss the daily privilege to say: <br />"That stuff is rotten!" <br /> <br />Or else--as sometimes has occured--when I <br />Have chanced upon a lucky line to blunder, <br />You'll miss the precious privilege to cry: <br />"That bird's a wonder!" <br /> <br />Well, William, when your people cease to strafe, <br />When you have put an end to all this war stuff, <br />When all the world is reasonably safe, <br />I'll write some more stuff. <br /> <br />And when you miss the quip and wanton wile, <br />And learn you can't endure the Towerless season, <br />O William, I shall not be petty . . . I'll <br />Listen to reason.<br /><br />Franklin P. Adams<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-w-hohenzollern-on-discontinuing-the-conning-t/
