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It Can’t Be Done

From the Harrisburg Telegraph, May 14, 1914. By Wing Dinger.

The editor is yelling
    For my poem to-day,
And as it is nine thirty
    I’ll write it right away.

Now let me see, what subject
    Will likely bring a smile.
I have it—but excuse me
    For just a little while.

Someone came in to see me
    On business, that was why
I asked you to excuse me,
    And now to write I’ll try.

I’ve got to do some hustling,
    Because it’s half past ten.
Well, here goes—but pray pardon,
    There is my phone again.

I have just two more minutes
    To write this verse of fun,
And I’ve forgot my subject—
    By jove, it can’t be done.

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