The Lay of a Lotus Eater
Oh, wicked little dope pill,You sphere of poppy dough—
Tho’ sin too oft indulged in—
I fonder of you grow.
Thou dear, diverting hop pill,
That makes all care forget;
Without you what would life be?
A drear and tasteless lot.
The Tenderloin girls all love you,
You are their heart’s delight;
The sight of you brings sunshine;
Your absence—darkest night.
A Devotee, Louis J. Beck
No comments:
Post a Comment