(with apologies to Frederic Taber Cooper) <br /> <br />I well recall (and who does not) <br />The circus bill-board hippopotamus, <br />whose wide distended jaws <br />For fear and terror were good cause. <br /> <br />That month, that vasty carmine cave, <br />Could munch with ease a Nubian slave; <br />In fact, the bill-board hippopot- <br />amus could bolt a house and lot! <br /> <br />Wide opened, that tremendous mouth <br />Obscured three-quarters of the south <br />Side of Schmidt’s barn, and promised me <br />Thrills, shocks, delights and ecstasy. <br /> <br />And then, alas! what sad non plus <br />The living hippopotamus! <br />’Twas but a stupid, sodden lump <br />As thrilling as an old elm stump. <br /> <br />Its mouth—unreasonably small— <br />The hippo opened not at all, <br />Or, if it did, it was about <br />As thrilling as a teapot spout. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />The Crimson Junk, by Doris Watt, <br />I’ve read it. Who, I pray, has not? <br />Bill Wastel, by C. Marrow. The <br />Plaid Cowslip. And The Hocking Lee. <br /> <br />The Fallow Field, by Sally Loo; <br />The Rose in Chains. I’ve read that too; <br />I’ve read them all for promised treat <br />Of thrills, emotions, tremblings sweet. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />The bill-board hippopotamus <br />It was a wild, uprageous cuss— <br />The real one? Well—Can you recall <br />That it had any mouth at all?<br /><br />Ellis Parker Butler<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mouths-of-hippopotami-and-some-recent-novels/
