Cornhuskers/Potato Blossom Songs and Jigs
POTATO BLOSSOM SONGS AND JIGS
- Rum tiddy um,
- tiddy um,
- tiddy um tum tum.
My knees are loose-like, my feet want to sling their selves.
I feel like tickling you under the chin—honey—and a-asking: Why Does a Chicken Cross the Road?
When the hens are a-laying eggs, and the roosters pluck-pluck-put-akut and you—honey—put new potatoes and gravy on the table, and there ain't too much rain or too little:
- Say, why do I feel so gabby ?
- Why do I want to holler all over the place?
- and I said all is yours
- the handfuls of nothing?
I bring a concertina after sunset under the apple trees.I bring out "The Spanish Cavalier" and "In the Gloaming, O My Darling."
The oats in the valley run a mile.Between are the green and marching potato vines.
Old foundations of rotten wood.
An old barn done-for and out of the wormholes ten-legged roaches shook up and scared by sunlight.
So a pickax digs a long tooth with a short memory.
Fire can not eat this rubbish till it has lain in the sun.
The story lags.
The story has no connections.
The story is nothing but a lot of banjo plinka planka plunks.
In Burlington long ago
And later again in Ashtabula
I said to myself:
- I wonder how far Ophelia went with Hamlet.
What else was there Shakespeare never told?
There must have been something.
If I go bugs I want to do it like Ophelia.
There was class to the way she went out of her head.
Does a famous poet eat watermelon?Excuse me, ask me something easy.
The Japanese bring slices of watermelon into pictures.The black seeds make oval polka dots on the pink meat.
Summer mornings I smell new wood and the river wind along with peaches.
I listen to the steamboat whistle hong-honging, hong-honging across the town.
And once I saw a teameo straddling a street with a hay-rack load of melons.
Niggers play banjos because they want to.The explanation is easy.
It is the same as why boys buy a nickel's worth of peanuts and eat them and then buy another nickel's worth.
Newsboys shooting craps in a back alley have a fugitive understanding of the scientific principle involved.The jockey in a yellow satin shirt and scarlet boots, riding a sorrel pony at the county fair, has a grasp of the theory.
- away from a school-room geography lesson
- in April when the crawfishes come out
- and the young frogs are calling
- and the pussywillows and the cat-tails
- know something about geography themselves.
I ask you for white blossoms.
I offer you memories and people.
I offer you a fire zigzag over the green and marching vines.
I bring a concertina after supper under the home-like apple trees.
I make up songs about things to look at:
- potato blossoms in summer night mist filling the garden with white spots;
- a cavalryman's yellow silk handkerchief stuck in a flannel pocket over the left side of the shirt, over the ventricles of blood, over the pumps of the heart.