They will tolerate many things in Slumberland
but they will not put up with bad taste
the louche, the tacky, the déclassé
four-flushers, stumble bums and boors
are advised in the strongest possible terms
to take their business elsewhere.
You can smoke hashish with a Grand Vizier,
slide down marble banisters in imperial palaces
or cavort with bare-breasted maidens
in emerald forests, but please bear in mind:
freedom is not a license for anarchy
certain standards of conduct do apply.
He was a model citizen in waking life
a member in good standing of the Elks,
the Rotarians, and the Knights of Columbus
named Man of the Year by the Southeast Queens Real
Estate Association
a joiner, a do-gooder, a pillar of the community
But in his dreams he was given to violent outbursts
and shocking displays of vulgarity
He would appear at state dinners minus his trousers
and in a visible state of arousal
He faked epileptic fits in churches, and threw up in
potted palms
in the gilded and paneled lobbies of 1910 hotels
He stole the silverware and goosed the chambermaids
He would wake up in a cold sweat, thinking
"Did I really do that? Thank God it was only a dream!"
But even in dreams such behavior causes comment
Word gets around, and eventually
things start to catch up with you
Gypsies flash the evil eye when you pass in the street
Chinese rickshaw drivers refuse to pick you up
The Head Waiter seats you next to a manure pile
and you find a live scorpion in your bouillabaisse
He was running out of chances and he knew it
but somehow he couldn't stop himself
He made indecent proposals to department store
mannequins
and gave violently anti-papist speeches in public
lavatories
Two viscounts and a Kentucky colonel challenged him to
duels
and he was publicly slapped in the face by an elf.
The last straw came when they caught him
rummaging through a dresser in the Grand Duchess'
boudoir
with a pair of her bloomers pulled over his head
The Princess of Slumberland herself
came down from her castle in the clouds
accompanied by two enormous eunuchs
to personally escort him from the premises
"Show this Philistine to the exit," she drawled,
"And you need not be gentle with him."
The pavement was hard and cold against his cheek
as the golden gates slammed shut behind him
and a voice sneered "Don't come back, either!"
Now he wanders, pajama-clad, in Gehenna
through blighted industrial parks and waterfront dives
populated by absinthe-drinkers and Hottentots.
Pillow and blanket in hand, he trudges forlornly
across vacant lots of his childhood, while rude
urchins
pelt him with garbage from the rooftops.
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