Jack & Adelle Foley

LIGHT VERSE & SONG LYRICS

Light verse & song lyrics are where poetry goes when it tires of the sometimes stuffy, pompous, problematical, ecstatic slopes of Parnassus.

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THE MARX BROTHERS RUN THE COUNTRY

Foist-a we gonna t’row out da economy

Who’s-a need da economy,

Says Chico

Yes, I do remember we had an economy

Says Groucho. Say, who let this fellow in here?

(Harpo: … )

Den-a we gonna t’row out da army

We don’t-a need da army

We nice-a fellas we give-a da army to da Arabs

Dat a way we get rid-a da terrorism

If they gotta da army they no need da terrorism

They can attack us fair and square

Makes sense to me, says Groucho

(Harpo: … )

Den-a dere’s-a da politicians—

Hey I’m a politician, says Groucho

You a politician? asks Chico

Well yes, says Groucho, I’m Senator Hugo Z. Hackenbush

Oh, says Chico, I’m a no recognize you

You da Hack in the Bush

Or da Bush in da Hack

Dat’s-a some joke huh boss?

Da Bush is a hack

I’m-a gonna tell-a you what

I like-a you I’m gonna give-a you

Well, that’s mighty White of you, says Groucho

Sho, I’m a good-a guy

You can-a wreck Delaware

(Harpo: … )

But you no can-a wreck da rest o da country

I’m a gonna give-a dat to him

(Harpo smiles)

I’m a gonna give-a him da bomb

(Harpo smiles)

and-a poisonous emissions

(Harpo smiles)

and plenty money

(Harpo smiles)

Den he can-a ruin everybody

Hey, says Groucho, you can’t do that

Why not? says Chico

Because you’re Italian

Everybody knows Italians don’t have any power except in

(Harpo frowns)

And besides, you need to be a lawyer to be president

I need-a a liar? asks Chico

You sure do, says Groucho, and I tell you I’m your man

(Harpo pulls out an American flag and waves it)

I’m the biggest liar you ever met

And I’m gonna make the whole world miserable

(Harpo pulls out a trumpet and blows it soundlessly)

Armageddon here we come

That’s a sound a good a to me, says Chico

Hey whadda you say you name is?

Hugo Z. Hackenbush, says Groucho

Dat’s a too long, says Chico

We gotta da short attention span

Nobody’s gonna remember dat

How’s about we shorten-a da name

Ok, says Groucho. What shall we make it?

How’s-a about BUSH

Sounds good to me!

We gonna make-a lots a money

(Harpo pulls out a dollar bill from his coat and waves it)

We gonna make-a war not-a love

(Harpo pulls out a sign that says DON’T GET LAID / INVADE)

We gonna be a fine bunch of comedians, dat’s a right

(Harpo silently laughs and laughs)

But wait a minute-a, says Chico, observing Harpo

He’s-a laugh but he’s-a make-a no sound

Maybe he’s a cryin

(Harpo sheds a tear)

Maybe he’s a no happy about what-a we doin

(Harpo begins to weep copiously)

You know, says Groucho, I’m not so happy about what we’re doing either

(Groucho begins to weep)

Dats-a strange, says Chico, we da funniest guys dat ever lived

And nobody’s a laugh, everybody’s a sad

Everybody’s a weep

(Chico begins to sob too)

You bet your life says Groucho

And you know, he says, lying down on the floor, I think you lost the bet

(Groucho begins to moan)

I’m a think we all lost, says Chico

Even the duck is dead, says Groucho

As it drops from the sky and falls on his head

They all lie down on the floor and weep

Harpo pulls out a Black Flag from his coat and waves it above their bodies

They are all

Silent

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In Downerville there’re only downs

Men never look up lady’s gowns:

It is a place where nothing thrives

The boxers are all used to dives

And dives galore there are to see:

Reside a bit in Misery

In Downerville depressions grow

The temperatures are ever low

Each Downer’s face is leaden-eyed

He often thinks of suicide

But would not sink so “low” as that

About the world he says, “It’s flat”

The dogs of Downerville all growl

The buzzard is its only fowl

The cattle “low,” and then they moan

No one gets up but lies there, prone

There’s nobody who isn’t ill

In weary, dreary D

                                    o

                                            w

                                                    n             

                                                          e

                                                                 r

                                                                      v

                                                                            i

                                                                                  l

                                                                                        l

                                                                                               e

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have understood the sea or me:

they sent him packing to Montmartre!

And I,--the concierge was chosen

to serve me up as lobster stew:

while I turned red, Nerval turned blue.

Dead, dead as a fish and flesh quick-frozen,

they found him hanging presently--

le bon Gérard, unmindful of

the calefaction of my love

among the secrets of the sea.

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PHILOMENE LONG

(It’s said that when men pay her compliments, her old lover, Stuart Perkoff—

though long dead—“breaks glasses.”)

She walks in Beauty at the Beach

She smiles and you hear glasses breaking

She takes a nibble at a peach

And all around her Earth is shaking

She wears a cross but isn’t, ever

Though she can rage (she says she hollers).

She’s been a nun, but monied, never!

“Why should I kiss the a— of dollars?

My dolors are enough for song,”

She says (I hear another glass!)

Her name is short, and yet it’s Long

This riddle anyone can pass:

We whet a knife until it’s keen

But none so keen as Philomene.

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THE POET’S TANGO

Nobody reads me

I’m not published enough

My work is magnificent

three steps to the right, turn

Nobody reviews me

Nobody buys my books

If only I were reviewed I could be famous

three steps back, turn

If only I were on the radio

Or on the television

Or if someone would make a movie of my life, THEN

three more steps to the right, turn

Someone would buy my books

Someone would review me

They’d know

three steps back, turn

How magnificent my mind is

What a major poet I am

How my work will be read hundreds of years from now though

three steps to the right, turn

NOW nobody is reading me

There will be books about me

I am great

three steps back, turn

My ex wives will be famous

My children will be famous

My ancestors will light up in their tombs only

three steps to the right, turn

Nobody reads me at the moment

Why can’t I be famous while I’m still around

I tell them: Sometimes I publish under the pseudonym, “John Ashbery”

three steps back, turn

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WHEN YOU’RE MASO WITH HER

(And Sado With Him)

I got a girl

Who is so refined

She’s got a girl friend

But I don’t mind

Life is a blur

Not a game or a whim

When you’re maso with her

And sado with him

This girl of mine

They say she’s bi

Cause she likes a girl

And she likes a guy

Nobody wins

Whatever occurs

When you’re sado with him

And maso with her

She treats me mean

But it’s love I know

She gets beat down

By her lover-foe

I wish I could find

A cure to engage

Her whirling mind

Goes from cage to cage

Nobody wins

Whatever occurs

When you’re sado with him

And maso with her

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DOGGISH

woofarfwoofarfbowwowwoofarfarfarf

woofarfbowarfwoofwoofWOOF

bowwowwowgrrrrrrwoofarfwoof

bowwoofwowgrrrrrrahoooooarfwoof

rrrrrrrrrrrrrrwoofarfarfwowwobrrr

woofrrrhahhahhahhah(wag tail at this point) awoooooo

brrrrrrfffffffbowwowhahhahhahwoofarf!

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MISSING U

this is a poem abot

missing yo

I know what dr. fred wold have thoght

and what carl jng wold have cleverly taght

oh, hear my nhappy shot:

I miss yo!

I took mbrage when the ndertaker ndertook to tter nspeakable llations!

nsal!

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AUTRY/SCHMAUTRY: A KUHBOY SONG

for (& with apologies to) Fanny Brice & Jerome Rothenberg

I am back in the shtetl again

Back vere a man is a bren

Vere the rabbi’s beard is gray

And the goyim stay avay

Back in the shtetl again

Back here ve’re eating the lox

Back here ve’re built like an ox

You don’t get divorced

Vhen your vife makes good borscht

Back in the shtetl again

Vhoopi ti yi yo

My inlaw is a shmo

Back in the shtetl again

Vhoopi ti yi yay

Ve say oi veh

Back in the shtetl again

Oh, I’m back in the shtetl again

Back vere a bris get the men

Vere the shiksas ain't

But ve don’t complaint

Back in the shtetl again (mazel tov)

Back in the shtetl again

(Hey, Tony! Atsa me, I'm-a the horse.)

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MACGREGOR’S COMPLAINT

Och, MacGregor, an' hae ye a lot o money?

I ha' me graaaaaaaaaave doubts.

And MacGregor, ha' ye a bonnie lassie?

I ha' me graaaaaaaaaaaaave doubts!

Why, cheer up man, you're young still

You're a healthy man, and niver ill

And ye've a bottle whene'er you will

I ha' me graaaaaaaaaaaaave doubts

And why, MacGregor, dew ye ha' sich doubts

You've plenty of Sunday meetin suits

And a sturdy pair o' Highland boots

Why do ye moan like a bagpipe sour

Tho ye're a Scot, ye need not be dour!

I ha' me graaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaave doubts

Me graaaaaaaaaaaaaaave doubts

And that's all I ha'!

Ha!

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JUST A MOMENT

Just a moment with you

A moment or two

And I know--

I know why I'm cryin'.

Just a moment ago

You said "Let me go" (Let me go)

So I know what it means

To be cryin'

Like the moments that pass

Like the light on the grass

That you see before dawn strikes the world

Just a moment with you

It could make me anew

But I know--

I know why I'm cryin'

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FAMILY CALYPSO

Is d problem d mother?

     no no no

Is d problem d father?

     no no no

Is d problem d children?

     no no no

D problem is d family

Is d problem d brother?

     no no no

Is d problem d sister?

     no no no

Is d problem d adopted?

     no no no

D problem is d family

     You & me

     & d family (Bis)

Is d problem d uncle?

     no no no

Is d problem d auntie?

     no no no

Is d problem d cousin?

     no no no

D problem is d family

Is d problem d lawyer?

     no no no

Is d problem d lover?

     no no no

Is d problem d mistress?

     no no no

D problem is d family

     You & me

     & d family (Bis)

Is d problem d doggie?

     no no no

Is d problem d kitty?

     no no no

Is d problem d goldfish?

     no no no

D problem is d family

Is d brother d sister?

     no no no

Is d father d mother?

     no no no

Is d sister d father?

     no no no

D problem is d family

Is d father d father?

     no no no

Is d mother d mother?

     no no no

Is d baby d baby?

     no no no

D problem is d family

     You & me

     & d family (Bis!)

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HITLER WEATHER 

I’ve been told by an old Bavarian, that the sun always shone brightest on the days when Hitler had his parades. They called it “Hitler Weather.”

                —Ruth Paesch

            as the Bush Administration begins its second term

                                                                             When you’re feeling hotsy totsy

                                                                             And your shirt is full of starch

                                                                             You are glad to be a Nazi

                                                                             And you’re ready for a March.

When the sun is shining brightly

And the sky’s a perfect blue

Sure, it wouldn’t be Killarney

If the people say to you,

“Why, it’s Hitler Weather.”

Should your mood be on the dark side

With the willies coming through

Should that devil, ol’ Depression

Blacken all your point of view

Should your love become so shrewish

That you scarce know what to do

And you feel you’re growing Jewish…

Then the sun shines down on you

That is Hitler Weather

And you’ll find you’re still an Aryan

Up you suddenly will perk

Saying, “Down with all that carrion,

Why, I must have been berserk

For I’m feeling so much better—”

Und was ist das, mein Kind?

“Das ist Hitlerwetter Hitlerwetter!

Das ist nicht Himmler, das ist nicht Goebbels, das ist nicht Goethewetter—!”

(pause) 

When Der Führer waves his Flügel

From the Mountain to the Fluss—

Comes a warm and gentle wafting

Und it’s very gut for uss.

CADILLAC SHOES

My car's a Honda

My shoes are Cadillacs (whoo)

Oh, my car's a Honda

But my shoes are Cadillacs

I got protection

If I step on any tacks

My car's a Honda

It's comfy and it's new

My car's a Honda

It's comfy and it's new

But my shoes they take me

To Park Avenue

My shoes got wings

They’re roaring down the street

My shoes got wings

They’re roaring down the street

Car is bourgeois

Shoes they are elite

I love you baby

I know you know it's true

Love you baby

Know you know it's true

But never ask me, darlin

My car, my shoes, or you

Oh, my car's a Honda

But my shoes are Cadillacs (whoo)

Oh, my car's a Honda

My shoes are Cadillacs

I got protection

If I step on any tacks

(If I never pay my tax)

(If I meet a battleax!)

(I’ll wear any color slacks)

My car's a Honda

(lifting foot) My shoes are Cadillacs

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THE MAN IN THE CADILLAC SHOES

There are many difficulties, dear,

Many things we need to iron out

About the economy for example

About our relationship

And of course about the children

And those others, the people we meet with daily

The ones who ask questions and have needs--

Who can refuse

The man in the Cadillac shoes?

You want answers, sweetheart,

You want ways out of The Trap

We seem to have built about ourselves without realizing it

We consume without wishing to consume

Hoping it will make us happy

And knowing it will not

And go to the movies

To see our own stupidity writ large

And pray to whatever God

(What does God have to do with money?)

(What does God have to do with mercy?)

O who can refuse

The man in the Cadillac shoes?

Who can refuse

That man who knows what to do and can help us

Who can point the way to a better world (the one we want)

Who can refuse him love or anything

Who can refuse him sex

He is the one they have singled out

He is the one they have pinned their hopes on

He is the one who can rid us of all the things we need to be rid of

He will take care of the oil crisis

O Despair Despair Despair, dear one

He can do nothing

I am the man in the Cadillac shoes

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In magic Hollywood in L.A.

They say that you can barely tell a

Fella from a woman in that oversexed clime

Cause anyone can be anyone and it isn’t a crime