(22 August 1893 - 7 June 1967 / Long Branch / New Jersey)

What do you think this poem is about?

Neither Bloody Nor Bowed

They say of me, and so they should,
It's doubtful if I come to good.
I see acquaintances and friends
Accumulating dividends,
And making enviable names
In science, art, and parlor games.
But I, despite expert advice,
Keep doing things I think are nice,
And though to good I never come-
Inseparable my nose and thumb!

Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003


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