if i were a
seventeen year
locust and only woke
up once every
seventeen years
yours for the second
coming of bacchus1
JUNE 27
The Truth about the Insects
well boss i am
going to quit living
a life of leisure
i have been an idler
and a waster and a
mere poet too long
my conscience has waked up
wish yours would do the same
i am going to have
a moral purpose in my life
hereafter and a cause
i am going to reclaim
cockroaches and teach them
proper ways of living
i am going to see if i cannot
reform insects in general
i have constituted
myself a missionary
extraordinary
and minister
plenipotentiary
and entomological
to bring idealism to
the little struggling brothers
the conditions in the insect
world today would shock
american reformers
if they knew about them
the lives they lead
are scarcely fit to print
i cannot go into
details but the contented
laxness in which i find
them is frightful
a family newspaper is no place
for these revelations
but i am trying to have
printed in paris
for limited circulation
amongst truly earnest
souls a volume which will
be entitled
the truth about the insects
i assure you there is nothing
even in the old testament
as terrible
i shall be the cotton mather
of the boll weevil
AUGUST 2
Warty Bliggens
i met a toad
the other day by the name
of warty bliggens
he was sitting under
a toadstool
feeling contented
he explained that when the cosmos
was created
that toadstool was especially
planned for his personal
shelter from sun and rain
thought out and prepared
for him
do not tell me
said warty bliggens
that there is not a purpose
in the universe
the thought is blasphemy
a little more
conversation revealed
that warty bliggens
considers himself to be
the center of the said
universe
the earth exists
to grow toadstools for him
to sit under
the sun to give him light
by day and the moon
and wheeling constellations
to make beautiful
the night for the sake of
warty bliggens
to what act of yours
do you impute
this interest on the part
of the creator
of the universe
i asked him
why is it that you
are so greatly favored
ask rather
said warty bliggens
what the universe
has done to deserve me
if i were a
human being i would
not laugh
too complacently
at poor warty bliggens
for similar
absurdities
have only too often
lodged in the crinkles
of the human cerebrum1
p s boss i notice
when i am mentioned
in other papers
they frequently spell
my name with a lower
case a now it
is all right for me to
do that myself
but i wish when other
they would use a capital letter
archy
AUGUST 4
Strange Bedfellows
We said to Archy the other day: “You are welcome to our house any time you wish, if you come alone. But please cease bringing your friends and kinsfolk with you.” To which he replied:
boss
you should have learned
by this time
that literature
makes strange
bedfellows
AUGUST 8
My Favorite Poem
man eats the big fish
the big fish eat the
little fish
the little fish
eat insects
in the water
the water insects
eat the water plants
the water plants
eat mud
mud eats man
my favorite poem
is the same as
abraham lincolns
o why should the spirit
of mortal be proud1
awaiting your answer
i am and so forth
AUGUST 12
Always the Lady
well boss what should i see
last evening but our old friend
mehitabel the cat
she was finishing a fish head
she had dragged out of a garbage can
one of her eyes
was bloodshot but the other
glowed with the old
unconquerable luster
there was a drab and ashen look
about her fur
but her step is swift and wiry
and her brave tail is still
a joyous banner in the air
has life been using you hard
mehitabel i asked her
pretty rough little cockroach
says she but what the hell
what the hell
toujours gai is my motto
always game and always gay
what the hell archy
theres a life or two
in the old girl yet i
am always jolly archy
and always the lady
what the hell
they cant take that away
from me archy
and always free archy
i live my own life archy
and i shall right up to the moment
the d s c wagon gets me
and carts me to the garbage scow
archy you may not believe it
but last week i received no less
than three offers of permanent homes
all from very respectable cats
with ribbons around their necks
but nothing doing
on this domesticity stuff
i am a free spirit
i am of royal descent archy
my grandmother was a persian
princess and i cant see myself
falling for any bourgeois
apartment house stuff
either a palace or else
complete liberty for me
i play a lone hand
and i never take up with tame toms
my particular friends have always
been very gentlemanly cats archy
to hell with anything common archy
that has always been my motto
always gay and always the lady
you cant trust half
of these damned pet cats
anyhow they will double cross
a lady with no conscience
only last week i was singing
on a back fence and one of these
dolled
up johnnies came out of the basement
and joined me he had a silver bell on
kid he says to me i fall for you
why you sudden thing says i
i like your nerve
come live with me and be my love1
says he and i will show you how
to pick open the ice box door
sweet thing says i
your line of talk convinces me
that we are affinities lead me to
the cream pitcher
i followed this slick crook
into the kitchen and just as we got
the ice box door open in came
the cook what does he do but pretend
he never knew me and she hits me
in the slats with a flat iron
was that any way to treat a lady
archy that cheap johnnie had
practically abducted me as you might say
and then deserted me
but what the hell archy what
the hell i am too much
the lady to beef about it
i laid for him in the alley
the next night and tore one of his
ears into fringes and lifted
an eye out of him now you
puzzle faced four flusher i told him
that will teach you how to
double cross a lady
always game and always gay
archy that is me what the hell
theres a dance or two
in the old dame yet
class is the thing that counts
archy you cant get away
from class
well boss i think that in spite
of her brave words and gallant
spirit our friend mehitabel
is feeling her years and constant
exposure to the elements
another year and i will likely
see her funeral cortege
winding through the traffic
a line of d s c wagons headed
for the refuse scows and poor
mehitabel ashily stark
in the foremost cart
AUGUST 28
Archy’s Own Short Course in Entomology1
yon wood louse is xylophagous2
you d think his little tummy
and also his esophagus
would be dry as the sarcophagus
that holds an arid mummy
the tarantula is a spider
she lives on chives and chicory
she is adept at kickery
as ever was a terpsichore3
and the devil is inside her
AUGUST 29
The Patagonian Penguin
the patagonian
penguin
is a most
peculiar
bird
he lives on
pussy
willows
and his tongue
is always furred
the porcupine
of chile
sleeps his life away
and that is how
the needles
get into the hay
the argentinian
oyster
is a very
subtle gink
for when he s
being eaten
he pretends he is
a skink
when you see
a sea gull
sitting
on a bald man s dome
she likely thinks
she s nesting
on her rocky
island home
do not tease
the inmates
when strolling
through the zoo
for they have
their finer feelings
the same
as me and you
oh deride not
the camel
if grief should
make him die
his ghost will come
to haunt you
with tears
in either eye
and the spirit of
a camel
in the midnight gloom
can be so very
cheerless
as it wanders
round the room
AUGUST 31
Be Glad You re Not a Tomcat
you should be glad
you re not a tomcat
for when all is said
and done
you know youd hate
to pay insurance
on nine lives instead of one
be glad you re not
a centipede
you might your whole
ambition lose
if you had to find
the cash
to keep a centipede
in shoes
be glad you re not
a devilfish
if you had four pairs
of feet
what a trail
you d leave behind you
when you staggered
with the heat
SEPTEMBER 14
The Most Luckless Creature1
a fish who had
swallowed an angle worm
found all too late
that a hook was nesting
in its midst ah me
said the poor fish
i am the most luckless
creature in the world
have you not pointed
that out said the worm
i might have supposed
myself a trifle
unfortunate
cheer up you two said
the fisherman jovially
the first two minutes
of that hook are always
the worst you must
cultivate a philosophic
state of mind
boss there is always
a comforting thought
in time of trouble when
it is not our trouble
SEPTEMBER 18
Low Brow
boss i saw a picture
of myself in a paper
the other day1
writing on a typewriter
with some of my feet
i wish it was as easy
as that what i have to do
is dive at each key
on the machine
and bump it with my head
and sometimes it telescopes
my occiput2 into my
vertebrae and i have a
permanent callus
on my forehead
i am in fact becoming
a low brow3 think of it
me with all my learning
to become a low brow
hoping that you
will remain the same4
i am as ever your
faithful little bug
Archy, by the way, was very flattered the other day when we informed him that we had named a motor car for him. It goes up a hill by fits and starts, with much the same motion which he uses when he is diving at the typewriter. Mechanics in several different garages have been unable to do much about it, except to pay their income taxes through association with it, and we are now thinking of taking it to an entomologist.
Not that the car is a total loss. There was a lubrication chart came with it that is worth its weight in—in coal. We were never able to lubricate by the chart, but it is an excellent pattern to carve chickens by, and recently a friend used it as a plan for a bungalow, thus saving a $2,000 architect’s fee and getting a building that invariably evokes the exclamation: “Oh, how different!”
SEPTEMBER 20
Song of Mehitabel
this is the song of mehitabel
of mehitabel the alley cat
as i wrote you before boss
mehitabel is a believer
in the pythagorean
theory of the transmigration1
of the soul and she claims
that formerly her spirit
was incarnated in the body
of cleopatra
that was a long time ago
and one must not be
surprised if mehitabel
has forgotten some of her
more regal manners
i have had my ups and downs
but wotthehell wotthehell
yesterday sceptres and crowns
fried oysters and velvet gowns
and today i herd with bums
but wotthehell wotthehell
i wake the world from sleep
as i caper and sing and leap
when i sing my wild free tune
wotthehell wotthehell
under the blear eyed moon
i am pelted with cast off shoon2
but wotthehell wotthehell
do you think that i would change
my present freedom to range
for a castle or moated grange
wotthehell wotthehell
cage me and i d go frantic
my life is so romantic
capricious and corybantic
and i m toujours gai toujours gai
i know that i am bound
for a journey down the sound3
in the midst of a refuse mound
but wotthehell wotthehell
oh i should worry and fret
death and i will coquette
there s a dance in the old dame yet
toujours gai toujours gai
i once was an innocent kit
wotthehell wotthehell
with a ribbon, my neck to fit
and bells tied onto it
o wotthehell wotthehell
but a maltese cat came by
with a come hither look in his eye
and a song that soared to the sky
and wotthehell wotthehell
and i followed adown the street
the pad of his rhythmical feet
o permit me again to repeat
wotthehell wotthehell
my youth i shall never forget
but there s nothing i really regret
wotthehell wotthehell
there s a dance in the old dame yet
toujours gai toujours gai
the things that i had not ought to
i do because i ve gotto
wotthehell wotthehell
and i end with my favorite motto
toujours gai toujours gai
boss sometimes i think
that our friend mehitabel
is a trifle too gay
SEPTEMBER 25