O Harpo! When did you seem like an angel
the last time?
and played the gray harp of gold?
When did you steal the silverware
and bug-spray the guests?
When did your brother find rain
in you sunny courtyard?
When did you chase your last blonde
across the Millionaires’ lawn
with a bait hook on a line
protruding from your bicycle?
Or when last you powderpuffed
your white flour face
with fishbarrel cover?
Harpo! Who was that Lion
I saw you with?
How did you treat the midget
and Konk the Giant?
Harpo, in your recent nightclub appearance
in New Orleans were you old?
were you still chiding with your horn
in the cane at your golden belt?
Did you still emerge from your pockets
another Harpo, or screw on
new wrists?
Was your vow of silence an Indian Harp?
