The Kent Bitch
              A Slam on Life

 So there stood Matt and this girl
 While the cliffs of Kent turned to bits in back of them,
 And he said to her, "Try to be true to me,
 And I'll do the same for you, for things are bad
 For all of us, and so on, and so on."
 Well now, I knew this girl.  It's true she had read
 That Greek play in a half good form in her own tongue
 And caught that wry way he spoke of the sea,
 But all the time he talked she had in mind
 The thought of what his beard would feel like
 On the back of her neck.  She told me since then
 That in a while she got up to look out
 At the lights on the far coast, and felt quite sad,
 As she thought of the wine and huge beds
 And love talk in French and the nice scents.
 And then she got quite mad.  To have been brought
 All the way down from Town, and then be talked to
 As a sort of sad world's last hope
 Is quite tough on a girl, and she was cute.
 So, she watched him pace the room
 And rub his watch chain and seem to sweat a bit,
 And then she said one or two words I can't print here.
 But don't judge her by that.  What I mean to say is,
 She's quite all right.  I still see her once in a while
 And she still treats me right.  We have a drink
 And I give her a good time, and it might be a year
 Till I see her once more, but there she is,
 A bit more fat, but as good as they come.
 At times I bring her a vial of some nice scent.

                                -- A. Hecht