The Best American Poetry

Columbia College 1967 #29 [by Mitch Sisskind]

Carlson Fenwick, Professor

In our years-long correspondence concerning
All things Shakespearian Alan Grosbeck and I
Sometimes amused ourselves by concocting
Hare-brained interpretations and pursuing
Them to their risibly illogical conclusions.
Aware for instance that in Elizabethan times
‘Nothing’ was a crude slang word for the
Female genitalia, we searched past the oft-cited
Double entendre of Much Ado About Nothing
And discovered that "nothing" was possibly
Shakespeare’s favorite word. In King Lear
Nothing appears eighteen times in just
Fourteen speeches including Cordelia’s
First words to Lear – ‘Nothing, my lord’ --
And in Lear as a whole we found "nothing"
Thirty-four times in twenty-nine speeches
While in The Winter’s Tale "nothing" appears
Thirty-four times in twenty-six speeches.
There’s plenty of nothing in Hamlet too.
So what was Shakespeare up to there?
Possibly nothing. But plenty of nothing.
We had some good laughs over it.

I miss Alan, interred now at Mount Auburn,
And he came to mind yesterday as I read
Sonnet 73 and recalled how we used to
Imagine all the possibilities of who is
Speaking to whom in these fourteen lines.
Oh, spare me the dull and obvious banality
That it’s an old man addressing a younger.
It could be an old woman and her cat or
A young girl and her doll. Why the hell not?
But then a rather novel interpretation came
To me which I wholeheartedly welcomed.
Was there really something new to say
About one of the most commented-upon
Poems in the English language? I hurried
To my bookshelves and consulted Dryden,
Johnson, Coleridge, the Marxists, Freudians,
The New Critics, and even old Yeats whose
Remark that Shakespeare is only a mass of
Magnificent fragments expresses not at all a
Denigration but instead suggests an analogy
Between Shakespeare and the post-Newtonian
Description of the whole far-flung Universe.

But it seems that no scholar in any age has
Proposed that the ‘speaker’ in Sonnet 73
Is actually the poem itself, nor that the subject
Of the poem is the experience of reading it.
‘That time of year thou mayst in me behold’ --
A coy invitation: If you’ve got a moment to
Engage your imagination, the poem says,
These ink spots on a page can conjure up
A windy fall day, some trees, and a ruined
Church or monastery, perhaps one of those
Closed by Henry VIII. And that’s only the
Beginning of what I, the poem, can disclose
If – and it’s a big if -- you have what it takes
To see it. My coy invitation was also a challenge.
You may ‘behold’ the images, or maybe not,
But the final couplet will offer a congratulation
On what ‘thou perceiv’st’ – with a reminder that
Perception won’t last forever. “This’ in line 13
Refers to the inevitability of conclusion, which
Has been universalized in the poem and is now
Demonstrated by the end of the poem itself.
Is there more? Yes, or maybe not. Oh dear God.

Ed. note: "There’s plenty of nothing in Hamlet, too." True, and the studious reader will note the allusion to this great song from Gershwin's Porgy and Bess.

No use complainin'. . .

Readers, vote for the best version. -- DL

Pelosi Quotes Longfellow [by Mitch Sisskind]

Yesterday, introducing the impeachment managers,
Nancy Pelosi invoked Longfellow. It was the 
first time I've heard poetry spoken by a politician 
since Bill Clinton in the 1980's quoted Emerson's
baleful line about the future, "When our sons have
gone to where our fathers are...."

Speaking of baleful, here's a Longfellow poem 
perhaps appropriate for these dark times:

Haunted Houses (1858)

All houses wherein men have lived and died
Are haunted houses. Through the open doors
The harmless phantoms on their errands glide,
With feet that make no sound upon the floors.

We meet them at the doorway, on the stair,
Along the passages they come and go,
Impalpable impressions on the air,
A sense of something moving to and fro.

There are more guests at table, than the hosts
Invited; the illuminated hall
Is thronged with quiet, inoffensive ghosts,
As silent as the pictures on the wall.

The stranger at my fireside cannot see
The forms I see, nor hear the sounds I hear;
He but perceives what is; while unto me
All that has been is visible and clear.

We have no title-deeds to house or lands;
Owners and occupants of earlier dates
From graves forgotten stretch their dusty hands,
And hold in mortmain still their old estates.

The spirit-world around this world of sense
Floats like an atmosphere, and everywhere
Wafts through these earthly mists and vapors dense
A vital breath of more ethereal air.

Our little lives are kept in equipoise
By opposite attractions and desires;
The struggle of the instinct that enjoys,
And the more noble instinct that aspires.

These perturbations, this perpetual jar
Of earthly wants and aspirations high,
Come from the influence of an unseen star,
An undiscovered planet in our sky.

And as the moon from some dark gate of cloud
Throws o’er the sea a floating bridge of light,
Across whose trembling planks our fancies crowd
Into the realm of mystery and night,–

So from the world of spirits there descends
A bridge of light, connecting it with this,
O’er whose unsteady floor, that sways and bends,
Wander our thoughts above the dark abyss.

 

"Columbia College 1967, #24" [by Mitch Sisskind]

Columbia College 1967, #24
Ellen Erlanger, Barnard Student

I’m taking a class called Women in the Modern Novel.
Everyone knows that the teacher, Professor Sims,
Is not well so it’s kind of an emotional experience
Twice a week and I try to make an effort in the class
Because it obviously means a lot to Professor Sims,
A really sweet person maybe about sixty years old.
Word gets around that she likes when girls bring
Cupcakes but that’s not my style so I just try 
To make an effort in class and show appreciation.

During a class on Pride and Prejudice Professor Sims
Posed one of her wistful subtly heartbreaking questions:
‘If this is supposed to be a class about the modern novel
‘And Pride and Prejudice was written over 150 years ago
‘What if anything occurs to you as modern about it?’
I spoke up and said, ‘This sentence in the book jumped
‘Off the page at me with its modernism in contrast to
‘Austen’s graceful stylistic locutions. The sentence is:
"Stupid men are the only ones worth knowing, after all."

I was glad to see a spark of amusement if not of hope
In Professor Sims’ eyes as she asked me for my thoughts
About that sentence and I tried hard to fulfill her request.
Poor Professor Sims. Poe’s idea that the fittest subject
For poetry is the death of a beautiful woman suddenly
Came to mind because Professor Sims was very beautiful.
I heard myself saying, ‘In high school I had a boyfriend
‘Who was stupid but he was worth knowing because
‘He loved me in such a pure and unblocked stupid way.

‘He would get this look of slack-jawed stupefaction
‘While he was gazing at my body to the point that
‘I used to wonder what is he actually seeing there?
‘What could possibly bring on such bewilderment?
Eventually I realized that there was no cognitive
‘Interference between what he saw and what he felt
‘So he was like a toaster plugged into a power plant
‘And then when we made love there was also total
‘Disintermediation like a flopping fish out of water.

‘Where did you go to high school?’ This question
From one of the two Columbia guys who joined the
Class for the second semester broke the spell that
Followed my excessively intimate reminiscences.
The girls around the table shared amused glances
And Professor Sims smiled too. ‘A progressive school,’
I said going along with the joke. ‘College preparatory.’
The guy had a little red button pinned on his shirt:
An SDS radical. The other kid was an Orthodox Jew.

As things got back to normal Professor Sims found
The stupid men sentence in Pride and Prejudice and
Read the preceding one as well: ‘I am going tomorrow
'To find a man who has not a single agreeable quality,
‘With neither manner nor sense to recommend him.'
Professor Sims remarked, ‘This is an anarchistic motif
‘In Jane Austen’s work that crops up once in a while’
And the class seemed interested to discuss that. Later
As everyone was leaving the professor took me aside.

She said, ‘Is it intelligence or instinct or just youthful
Precociousness that allows you to express yourself
From unusual angles and with odd combinations of
Archaic orotundity and a well-calibrated diffidence.
See, I can do it too and I find it winning but most
People won’t understand you or will tune you out
As is done with Jane Austen’s secret anarchism.
What do you think?’ ‘Oh, it’s all just stupidity,’ I said
And I couldn’t tell if she was about to laugh or cry.

Columbia College 1967, #19 [by Mitch Sisskind]

 

Columbia College 1967, #19
Michael Ganzer, Professor

If you want to write a love poem don’t say
Your girlfriend smells like a new car but
Maybe you could say, ‘I love you like I love
‘The smell of a new car that foretells many
‘Pleasurable and interesting possibilities
‘Whether it’s a long drive to Arizona or just
‘A quick spin to the seashore on a Sunday
‘I will always keep your top down because
‘You are my beautiful convertible, Julia,
‘Built for comfort and also built for speed.’
I used the name Julia because Robert Herrick
In the 17th Century was a master of this stuff
And he wrote a poem called ‘Upon Julia’s Clothes.’
Ha! Upon Julia’s Clothes! That’s so terrific!

Great Blurbs de Nos Jours [by Mitch Sisskind]

Mitch Sisskind's candidates:

". . . an excellent blurb line is, "i put this book in my son's/daughter's suitcase when he/she went of to Harvard/Yale/Berkeley." it shows you have a family, which makes many people feel closer to you, and it also shows that you trust the book enough to put in in the hands of your kids -- in whom you have a huge financial investment.

another good line is, 'if you read only one book this year, make it this one.' Because that sort of gives them permission not to buy any more books this year. but if it's getting close to the end of the calendar year this line could look funny -- in that case make sure you say 'if you only read one book this fiscal year....' "

Calliope [by Mitch Sisskind]

When she used the word bullnose to describe
The blunt corner of a marble kitchen counter --
From that moment I was in love with Calliope,
As I inferred a knowledge of carpentry which,
Although I had been unaware of it, I do find
Attractive in a woman whose slender arms
Disguise wiry strength just as her vocabulary
Unexpectedly includes a word like bullnose.
Another turn-on for me is a sylph-like woman
In a form-fitting wedding dress so with pleasure
I anticipate browsing Modern Brides magazine
With Calliope – notwithstanding how when I
Looked up bullnose in the dictionary it was
Defined as a disease of pigs. But no matter!

Voices of Columbia 1967 (#2) [by Mitch Sisskind]

Ellen Erlanger, Barnard student

Barnard is across Broadway from
Columbia which is not very far but
Far enough to be different from what
Barnard would be like if there were
One unified campus for both sexes.

For example, on one unified campus
Panty raids probably would not exist:
Mobs of CU cretins marching across
Broadway to Barnard late at night,
Weather permitting of course.

They come through the gate and chant
Show us your tits and believe it or not
Some Barnard girls actually do that
In the windows of their dorm rooms
And a few also throw panties and bras.

If it goes on long enough cops arrive
And the girls chant the cops eat shit
And the boys wander back across
Broadway with the girls’ underwear
To treasure for the rest of their lives.

What annoys me about a panty raid
Is the corny boola-boola college boy
Frustration and foolishness it shows,
Like eating goldfish or trying to cram
All the frat boys into a phone booth.

Well, today we’ve got Vietnam
And Johnson and Ronald Reagan
And the Doors and the Stones
And if we want to fuck, we fuck.
Simple! I was fucking in high school.

Voices of Columbia 1967, #1 (by Mitch Sisskind)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jared Korsauer, Student

Every Sunday night a group of us
Get together – a leftist lawyer,
CU Students, a tough black guy
Who got radicalized in the air force,
Some chicks, a psychiatrist who
Knows psychiatry is all bullshit --
Each with revolutionary intentions
And with a revolutionary analysis
Which doesn’t mean they’ve read
Every word that Marx ever wrote
Or all of Stalin’s letters to Molotov
But they understand the dialectic
And they’re action-oriented Leninist
Bolsheviks in the context of 1967.

*
Carlson Fenwick, Professor

Were we really to hear and
Understand Lear’s words,
‘If you have poison for me
“I will drink it,’ or Francesca
Of Canto V, ‘Quel giorno più
‘Non vi leggemmo avante,’
‘That day we read no farther,’
Or von Sternberg’s Blue Angel
In which Jannings dies a tragic
Cuckold and off the screen died
An unrepentant Nazi in 1950 --
Were we to take all that to heart,
Alas, in that case, I’m afraid
We would just cry all the time.

*
James Rice, Student

Pears are pear-shaped Jewish kids
From Brooklyn most of whom
Want to be doctors but they also
Like Government which is called
Political Science at a lot of schools.
Pears hang out in the pear palace
Which is the 24-hour study room
Near the vending machines in
Hartley Hall which are across the
Way from the TV room where
Pears are almost never found.
Jocks who come here from Ohio
Or Texas have never seen a pear
And it hugely freaks them out.

 

Poem for Mitch Sisskind [by David Lehman]

On Veterans' Day let us remember the fallen, and honor them.
It used to be Armistice Day.
Now it is a three-day weekend.
As King David would have said: How the mighty have fallen.
But some things don't change even as all the fashions do
so the old feel older in an orgy of planned obsolescence.
I wondered: Who will inspire them to do the great things
the Alte Kockers of the past revealed in prophecies?

So I went to Mitch, my old friend, thinking: if anyone knows,
he does, and he told me a very simple solution he had
for the problem of inspiration, which Freud would have called
the problem of anxiety. "When you need inspiration,"
Mitch said, "there's no need to look any further than
Orson Welles' classic commercials for Paul Masson wine.
Many of them can be seen on You-Tube. I saw a nice one
the other day. I just wish it went on longer."

Kaia and Krista (by Mitch Sisskind)

I sold a Miro painting for a rich guy

That was basically a big number 68

And oddly enough it sold for about

68,000 so I got a nice finder’s fee

But it would sell for even more now.

 

My friend Dennis had this hot

New babe Kaia who wanted the

Finer things in life so he asked

Me did I know anybody that was

Selling a Picasso or whatnot.

 

Dennis was the kind of guy that

When we were at the race track

And he went to pee he came back

With ice cream cones for everybody

And he did a lot of stuff like that.

 

Many people carry guns but Dennis

Was the only guy I’ve known who

Carried a gun with a silencer but

I never saw him actually take it out

Nor did I see him lose his temper.

 

We went every week to a bar by

Grand Avenue to settle up our

Sports bets and once we came in

And a lowlife mope said to Dennis

You bastard you owe me money.

 

It was kind of a tense moment except

Dennis handled it with great aplomb

By asking the mope in a calm voice

How much do I owe you and the mope

Said 200 so Dennis just gave it to him.

 

When we were outside the bar a guy

Named Jimmy who was with us asked

Why he gave money to the mope and

Dennis said emphatically that it was

Worth his 200 to be rid of the mope.

 

He said how Joey The Clown Lombardo,

Joey Aiuppa, John No Nose DiFronzo,

Those guys owed him favors and with

One phone call the mope would be in

A trunk at O’Hare long-term parking.

 

But he stated that he was not a thug

So 200 to get rid of the mope was

A small price which I attributed to

The influence of Kaia who certainly

Would disapprove of any violence.

 

Meanwhile I happened to know a guy

Who wanted to sell a Matisse drawing

So Dennis and I went over to look at it,

A big drawing of a woman in charcoal

Or something hanging there on the wall.

 

The guy had an impressive art collection

But for some reason he wished to get rid

Of the Matisse which actually looked like

Something that could have been drawn

By a six-year old. He wanted 35,000.

 

Dennis handled it with great aplomb

Except I knew he was thinking how

A six-year old could have drawn it or

He could even draw one himself and

Who would be the wiser? But no.

 

Down in the car we giggled about it.

35,000 just to fuck Kaia he laughed

As much later I would laugh at myself

When I didn’t know or care how much

Krista took me for and she broke me.

 

Sonnet, 11/5/2019 (by Mitch Sisskind)

In the old days working at Republic Steel
We gathered nightly at Moose Cholak’s
Calumet Inn on 99^th Street and Ewing.
It was when polyester double-knit pants
Were coming in and one night this guy
Said to me, 'No reason to worry about
'Pants anymore what with the way these
'Double-knit disco pants are coming in,'
And I said, 'I agree with you completely,'
And he went on, 'Pants are suddenly a
'Non-issue because of the double-knits,'
And I said, 'You are correct,' and as he
Wonderingly shook his head I insisted,
'Beyond any doubt, what you say is true.'

Preface to Lyrical Ballads [by Mitch Sisskind]

Consider the lilies of the field, they toil
not, neither do they spin, yet I say unto
you that even Solomon in his glory was
not arrayed as one of these. -- Matthew 6:28-29

I think Jesus Christ meant that
If you look closely at something
Like a lily you would see how
It would cost a lot of money for
A nice suit like that for a man
Or a nice dress for a woman.

But, and this is a big but: Jesus
Might have been joking or being
Sarcastic like if two rich men are
Hanging out at the country club
And one of them says sarcastically
How money is only pieces of paper.

Since nobody knows what Jesus
Meant it can be one thing at one
Minute and the opposite thing
The next minute, or both at once,
As John Ashbery said, ‘It had been
‘Raining but it had not been raining.’

So when Buddha heard what Jesus
Said about the lily he said, ‘He is not far
From Buddha-hood’ and when he read
Some Trees by John Ashbery he said,
‘The most beautiful first book of poems
‘Since Wallace Stevens’ Harmonium.’

10/22/2019 (by Mitch Sisskind)

It’s my birthday, I’m 147, I’m 741,
I wake in darkness lying on my side
And as I feel a very slight stirring
Against my back I wonder might
This be from the Cthulhu Mythos:
Yig, or Olkoth, who enters the world
Through glass eyes in the statues
Of the Virgin Mary. Oh, you callow
Undergraduates, I’m being serious
Here and the windows tightly shut
Though they may be hardly mitigate
The I-10 freeway’s 4:30 AM roar
From half a mile away. Are you 17,
Honey? Are you 24? Moi, I am 812.

 

Harley McNair, Student [by Mitch Sisskind]

Harley McNair
Student

“Hi, are you from Possumneck?”
This is the greatest pickup line 
In the world but you got to know
How to say it like you’re excited, 
So It’s not like a question, like it
Ends with an exclamation mark!

Why is it the greatest pickup line?
Well, no matter what she says
You have something else to say. 
Most of them of course are not from 
Possumneck so you say, “I knew 
“A girl there who looked just like you!”

Or maybe she is from Possumneck,
Or maybe she just says she is from 
There to play along with you a bit.
Then you say, “I used to live there
“And I saw you on the street one day
"But I thought we would never meet!”

I am in Phi Delta Theta and we have
Passed this pickup line to each other
And we laugh about it because nobody
In Phi Delta Theta is from Possumneck.
But there actually is a place called 
Possumneck which is in Attala County.

In Bojaxi Gezalem (by Mitch Sisskind)

I traveled to Bojaxi Gezalem. I visited the marketplace. I said,
“Nuk mos a mund majtas,” which means, “I have been tooting
my horn.” I had meant to say, “Ndaloni a mund falamenderit,”
which means, “Fruit is what I am eager to buy.” They laughed
at me.

In the hospital I said, “Desha pulla palko te plote,” which means,
“This is the weight.” I had meant to say, “Mund ma trgoni pk
vizat,” which means, “There is no need for you to make such a
fuss about it.” They laughed at me.

I was in the airport. I said, “Eshte per quind shkone,” which means,
“I am looking for a loophole.” I had meant to say, “Eshte me
didjde det bakine,” which means, “This is the window where one
buys the funnies.” They laughed at me.

I went to the brothel and said, “Mund a mund verit kanitier,” which
means, “I need the tow truck.” I had meant to say, “Kifit mos
vazo takoni,” which means, “From now on I will try to be
spontaneous.” They laughed at me.

I prayed and said, “Ora kur mur shesh bardha,” which means,
“My sin is always before my eyes.” I had meant to say, “Ju
duhet keni prisni lema thoma,” which means, “Lead me in the
correct path.” No matter, God heard my prayer!

 

Voices of Mississippi, 1957 (by Mitch Sisskind)

Lyle Ross Crockett
University Administrator

“Chancellor of the University of Mississippi.”
That those five words – or are there six? --
Would ever append themselves to my name,
(Or is my name the modest appendage
To those words?) – well sir, for a fellow
Who grew up around hogs and cotton fields
It is quite a bit to take in. I am not worthy.

Worthy or not, however, I have a job to do
Nor will I let my deeply-felt humility imply
Any lack of confidence in my preparedness
For the Chancellorship, lest that implication
Appear to devalue the respect and gratitude
I feel for my years at other great universities
As an administrator and in classrooms as well.

Like its sister schools across the South,
The academic mission of Ole Miss exists
Side by side with the school’s military,
Athletic, and social responsibilities in ways
That a Harvard or Yale couldn't understand.
We’re an army, a professional football team,
And a matchmaking service all at once.

To be clear, when I call us an army
I use that word in the broadest sense,
Encompassing our infantry ROTC and
Also our Navy and Air Force ROTC corps;
“Army,” after all, derives from the Latin
“Armata” as in armada, the maritime force
That struck England in 1588, I think it was.

As for football, just as the Tampa Tarpons
Are fertile soil for seedlings of major league
Baseball, our football team is professional
Notwithstanding that our players are paid
Later rather than paid now. Scant matter.
Charley Conerly ’47 is the quarterback
In New York, and look ye at Bruiser Kinard.

Apropos Ole Miss as a matchmaking service --
But is marriage bureau gentler to the ear? --
When sons and daughters of the state’s
Eminent families enroll here there is an
Expectation that they’ll graduate with
More than a sheepskin: a life’s partnership,
That is, to prolong their patrician lineage.

In my capacity as University chancellor,
With that legal and even spiritual identity,
I’ve been honored to join a number of
These young couples in holy matrimony.
Violet Beach became Mrs. Wilson Greenhill
Under my auspices, and Floride Bondurrant
Metamorphosed into Mrs. Reed Polifax.

Yes, Hayes Bondurrant is a Ku Kluxer,
And Old Man Greenhill is a horse’s ass.
But might not the progeny of their progeny
Sustain what has worth in antique traditions
While also gestating a new generation of
Hey, whoop, jamboree, as is our fond hope?
I’ve done my part. You may kiss the bride.

The Curse that Cannot Speak Its Name (by Mitch Sisskind)

A New York Times article full of negative insinuations linked
Democrat candidate Tulsi Gabbard to white supremacist
groups and Russian cyberbots. Throughout the article there’s
puzzlement and a certain annoyance about Tulsi Gabbard:
“What is she up to?”

Whatever she may be up to, what’s most obvious about Tulsi
Gabbard is never mentioned in the article. Yet it’s absolutely
the first thing anyone notices about her. Tulsi Gabbard is a
beautiful woman.

If she were Black, if she were Muslim, even, perhaps, if she
were fat, the New York Times might reference those attributes.
What’s more, such references could confer on Tulsi Gabbard
some of today’s requisite victim identity. The present article
might at least have mentioned the fact that Tulsi Gabbard is
Hindu. But the general animosity of the piece was such that
no quarter would be given. I believe that the foundation of that
animosity was the candidate’s physical attractiveness. Again,
her beauty is the obvious thing about her, and for that very
reason it can't even be mentioned. It's too horrible.

I first noticed this tendency in the media following the death,
in 1982, of the actress Grace Kelly. One of the TV networks
aired a half-hour program featuring celebrities who had known
her. Not one of them mentioned the fact that she was a beautiful
woman. The irony was, if she hadn’t been a beautiful woman
nobody would ever have heard of Grace Kelly.

In the ancient world, in Northern Europe and also in South America,
beautiful young girls were subjected to sacrifice. Whatever honor
might have been ascribed to this, it was a good way of getting rid
of a potentially disruptive character, and even of punishing her for
being what she was. When the remains of a sacrificed girl were
discovered in Peru, that dog Bill Clinton uncouthly stated, “There’s
one good-looking mummy.” Impeach him!

In a 1980s shampoo commercial, a model begged, “Don’t hate me
because I’m beautiful.” It was a joke but she deserved to be hated.
If she were any good, she’d be fat.

https://www.nytimes.com/2019/10/12/us/politics/tulsi-gabbard.html?searchResultPosition=2

That's What I Thought (by Mitch Sisskind)

Everybody has a tragic story
And I have one of those too. 
Would you like to hear it 
For a couple of hours on an 
Economy class flight to LA?
Haha that’s what I thought!

Or let’s talk about money.
Just by looking at people
It’s hard to tell how much
Money they have. Do you 
Think I have a lot of money? 
Haha that’s what I thought!

Or let’s talk about sex.
Just by looking at people
It’s hard to tell how much 
Sex they’re getting. Do you 
Think I’m getting a lot of sex?
Haha that’s what I thought!

Or let’s talk about death.
Just looking at people
It’s hard to tell whether
They’re dead or alive but
If you wait long enough 
You’ll be right eventually

The way a stopped clock
Is right twice a day or blind
Pigs find truffles. Do you
Think I’m alive or am I dead?
Haha that’s what I thought!
But haha what about now?

 

 

 

 

From "Voices of Mississippi 1957" (by Mitch Sisskind)

Reed Polifax
University Student

In Mississippi the Polifax name commands
Respect so I need to be careful about whom
I marry and that is the reason I pledged
Phi Delta Theta -- not that there was
Ever any doubt I would pledge Phi Delt
Since my daddy and his daddy before him
Were also brothers of Phi Delta Theta.

You get your pick of desirable women in
The most prestigious sororities when you
Are a brother in Phi Delta Theta particularly
If your name is Polifax, just as the women
In those sororities know they get their pick
Of the most desirable men if they are sisters
Of sororities like Tri Delt or Delta Gamma.

On a typical football weekend before the game
We will be drinking in the Grove with the girls
There naturally gravitating to the Phi Delts
And before the Vandy game there were lots of
Delta Gammas there and I was being sociable
But not revealing that my last name is Polifax
Or of course they would instantly smell blood.

However there was something about this one
Delta Gamma who without batting her eyelashes
Was unusually bewitching notwithstanding and
As we began the usual barnyard mating dance
I let it drop: “My name by the way is Reed Polifax”
To which she replied, “Well, bless your heart,
“Dear, my name is Floride Calhoun Bondurrant!”

Washington Janes
Groundskeeper

At Parchman the assistant warden
Took me under his wing and I learned
To drive the tractors and fix them if
Something went wrong with them.

It was the best thing that ever happened
To me because one day the boss man
From Greenhill’s farm came and asked
Could anybody at Parchman drive a tractor.

I was under a life sentence you know
But the assistant warden pointed at me
And said I can drive so they let me go
But money must have changed hands.

I got along fine with the boss man at
Greenhill’s farm except they paid me
Just one dollar a day with some food
And I lived in a converted chicken coop.

One day the boss man said to me,
“Is this a good tractor we got here?”
I said, “Yes, the Deere Model 60 is
“A good tractor, nothing wrong with it.”

He said, “You seem to know a lot“
About tractors. Mister Greenhill
Would like to speak with you.
“He’ll come by your coop about six.”

That evening Mister Greenhill said,
“I’m closely associated with Ole Miss.
“They’re putting in a whole new turf
“For the Ole Miss football stadium.

“They’ve got a P9600 lateral-move
“Sprinkler rig on wheels so they need
“Somebody to drive a tractor to pull
“The rig to wet down the football field.

“Recently I donated one of the new
“Deere thirty-five horsepower tractors
“That came out this year. You’ll need
“To familiarize yourself with it, Wash.”

I wasn’t sure quite what he meant
But then he said, “In other words,
“I want to get you a groundskeeping
“Job at Ole Miss. That ok with you?”

“Well, yes, it definitely is,” I said,
And we grinned at one another
“Thank you, thank you. The tractor
“Will be in very good hands.”

“I know it will be. Oh, one other thing.
“Are you married, Wash?” So I said,
“I got a wife but I’m not sure where
“She’s at since I went to Parchman.”

“Well, while you are at the university
“Best to keep your eyes on the tractor,
“You know what I mean?” Still grinning
When he said it and I kept grinning too.

Floride Calhoun Bondurrant
University Student

Even if I am now a mere college student
I am aware, grateful, and very proud that
My mother and father bestowed upon me
The name Floride Calhoun in the hope
And expectation that I will acquit myself
Worthily of my namesake Floride Calhoun,
Daughter of Senator John E. Calhoun and
Later the wife of Senator John C. Calhoun,
The Secretary of State, the Secretary of War,
And the Vice-President of the United States.

Floride and her husband had ten children
In eighteen years so obviously she and 
John C. Calhoun were busy as husband
And wife but none of the children lived
Long except their daughter Anna Maria
Who by and by married Thomas Clemson
Who inherited the Calhoun family’s plantation
Upon the death of Anna Maria and when
Thomas himself eventually passed away
He willed it to become Clemson University.

Sometimes people think I am putting on airs
When I tell about my name but I am always
Honest about not being a blood descendant of
The original Floride Calhoun and what of it?
My parents wanted to give me something to
Live up to and the more I learn about Floride
The more I want to be like her -- not by having
Ten children but by never complaining as she
Never complained while managing a plantation
When her husband was gone a lot of the time.

Floride Calhoun got herself and John C. Calhoun
Kicked out of Washington because Floride didn’t
Approve of how a woman married a rich Senator
Too soon after her husband died and for how
She messed around with the rich Senator even
While her husband was alive. Later the woman
Had her picture on a cigar box. The woman
Was known as a fizgig which is a firecracker
That makes a sizzle noise when the fuse is lit
But the word fizgig also used to mean a slut.

I don’t need to marry a hugely prominent man
Like John C. Calhoun but I do want a man
That is classy and successful like my father
Who is a businessman in Senatobia and is
Kind of like the big fish in a small pond.
My sister also goes to Ole Miss and we
Compare notes about guys we meet and
What guys are like from different fraternities.
Her name is Varina, the name of the wife of
Jefferson Davis the President of the CSA.

 

 

Poem #2 from University of Mississippi, 1957 (by Mitch Sisskind)

Grey Squirrel
Student

To cozy up to the Beatnik Girl I joined
The Folk Music Club. The meeting
Consisted of singing to each other
From mimeographed pages while 
A few of them played their guitars.

No other males were present as 
The Beatnik Girl and the other girls
Looked at me with pleasant enough
Expressions on their faces as they 
Might look at a harmless bear cub.

Unlike the hairsprayed sorority girls
These no makeup girls seemed to 
Flaunt their back country origins and
While they did not wear Davy Crockett 
Coonskin hats they might as well have.

After a few songs I was asked to 
Introduce myself to the group and 
Maybe say a few words about myself
Like where in Mississippi I was from
And about my interest in folk music.

Often I am rather squeamish about 
Saying that I come from Hog Chain
So I say Bogue Chitto instead but
Among the odd duck girls I admitted, 
“I’m from Hog Chain in Lincoln county.”

I continued, “It may surprise you to
“Learn that a hog chain has nothing
“To do with pigs but is actually a
“Metal rod that supports the hulls of
“Flat-bottom stern-wheeler riverboats.

“I am the first ever from Hog Chain to
“Attend Ole Miss just as I am the first
“One to be a brother in Kappa Alpha 
“Where our motto is ‘Dieu et les Dames’ 
“Meaning ‘God and the Ladies’ in English.

“As for my interest in folk music perhaps 
“I don’t know how I can put it into words
“But I have smelled so much hairspray
“And deoderant on sorority girls that I 
“Need a break from that really bad.”

Had I said too much or not enough?
A moment of stunned silence ensued
Until one of them finally whispered
Quietly almost like a little mouse,
“Could you please tell us your name?”

Just then in that very second before 
I could reply the Beatnik Girl stated 
Loudly and firmly, “His former name 
“Means nothing because I am giving 
“Him a new one which is Grey Squirrel!”