In his jackpot joy

   the mighty modest mulling man

   from downright minnesota

   leaps to his uncontestable most

   glorious apotheosis

   as lights go flick and palms go smack

   and the bald-pated band unpacks

   a roundelay of flatulence

   befitting a triumphant elephant


   Comes the morning of the mourning

   as the dancing girls lie snoring

   our Victorious Uproarious

   notes how naught deters the rain

   trickling down his windowpane

   worst the worshipping world has wobbled

   on to where that bright ball-peen hammer

   now waits to mark the final stammer

   of his crackpot joy








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