April 16, 2009

A Springtime Poetical Interlude from "BathHouse" John


April is National Poetry Month and so, in keeping with the season, I offer the following selection from Chicago's undisputed poet laureate of the City Council, First Ward Alderman John J. Coughlin. The bard, who has also penned such delights as "Ode to a Bathtub," "She Sleeps by the Drainage Canal", "They’re Tearing Up Clark Street Again" and the popular "Dear Midnight of Love" (performed at the Auditorium Theater in 1899), believes his latest offering to be his best.

"There is no doubt about it being a gem," Coughlin told reporters. "At this season of the year every man with music in his soul must listen to the song that nature sings. It is impossible for the true poet to get away from it."

Signs of Spring

I've received a wireless message saying spring is "C. Q. D.";
It is written in the maple sap that oozes from the tree.
I can read it in the swollen stream and in the blade of grass;
Look where you may, there's signs of spring and coming garden "sass."

O, the birdlet in the treelet sings a songlet to its mate;
Such a chirping and such smirking (are they framing up a date?)
If you'll only stop and listen to the notes piped sweet and clear,
You will need no better evidence that spring is really here.

O, the windows in the shoplets are filled up with women's hats;
There are some as big as washtubs and some more like brewery vats.
See the ladies stop to "rubber" and admire the freakish gear;
'Tis an ever failing omen that our old friend spring is here.

There's the bumlet and his votelet - both are signs of early spring;
I would rather hear the hobo than to hear Caruso sing.
Yester eve I heard him warbling from behind a "tub" of beer,
Which convinced me that the balmy days of spring were surely here.

There are many other signs of spring which come by wireless wire;
One of which is Yours Sincerely, who is tuning up his lyre
Just to twang a song to nature 'bout the brooks and fields of green;
O, I wonder if I'm understood; I wonder, yes, I ween.

John J. Coughlin (1860-1938)
Published March 21, 1909

Recommended reading:
Chicago poetry: Who should be the new poetic voice of Chicagoland?

4 comments:

Lidian April 16, 2009 2:43 PM  

Well, he was quite a wordsmith, wasn't he? A match for Julia Moore, the Sweet Singer of Michigan! :)

Sharon April 16, 2009 3:03 PM  

Actually, I think he climbed up a treelet to see a birdlet and fell down on his headlet. Gotta love it. Who could make up this stuff?
Thanks, Lidian.

Evangeline April 16, 2009 10:14 PM  

Just stopped by to say I love the new look! I updated the link and hope to be back frequently.

Sharon April 22, 2009 7:48 AM  

Glad you like it, Evangeline. It might seem odd to have a whole separate site for the links, but it seems to work. Thanks for stopping.

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