In keeping with the holiday spirit, some of
Armand's lofty, often naughty prose from
Volume V (1946-1954):
Poem by me, after reading several
incomprehensible effusions in Atlantic Monthly:
ATOMISM
Clash of cymbals
Awesome failure-man's undoing;
Twisted and shattered hope;
Oh, the pity, utter ruth.
Tell, tell this vagrant seeker after
veracity,
Can we ever, must all be as naught?
No chance at heaven,
No distant vision of an Utopia,
Even as yet dimly glimpsed
Through the murk of eternity?
This is my prayer.
*
Water Closet Signs:
We aim to please; you aim too, please
All turds over 6 lbs. please lower with
chains
Stand close, the next guy may be barefooted
Don't expectorate in here, if you expect
to rate in here.
*
I ask: "Is the hole people have aces in,
their ace hole"?
*
The end
of the world
has come
at last
For all
its future
lies in
its past
*
Joke: Daughter, your party dress reminds
me of your husband - no visible means of support.
*
Observation: A woman is like an electric
wire;
The longer she resists, the hotter she gets.