the whipper snapper child of the sun
His pert blonde spirit
scoured by the Scandinavian Boreas
His head
an adolescent oval
ostrich egg
The victorious silly beauty of his face
awakens to his instincts
A vivacious knick-knack tipped with gold
he puts the world
to the test of intuition
Smiling from ear to ear
Living from other hands to mouth
Holding in immaculate arms
the syphilitic sailor
on his avoided death bunk
or the movie vamp
among the muffled shadows of the shrubberies——
Picking lemons in Los Angeles broke
The education of “Prince Fils à Papa”
How low men die
How women love—
The rituals of Dempsey and Carpentier
PERLUN
asks “Do these flappers of the millionaires
think I’m a doll for anyone to pat?”