Grins and Growls

Here's a gem I discovered in a dusty box that had been sitting in the condo storage bin for 37 years:  A poem my dad wrote to the editor of the UCLA Daily Bruin.  One month shy of 20, he's already disgruntled about writerly mistreatment.  A familiar theme throughout his life.

It appeared on September 23, 1941.  More than a little spooky, that date. My mom died on September 23, 1999. In 1941, they hadn't met yet...

POME (GROWL)

Dear (?) Editor:
I wrote a poem the other day
And sent it in to you.
It seemed to me the right size
But what did you go and do?
From a perfect 16 line poem
Which I thought it to be
You cut it down to 12 --
And brought me misery.
Of course I'm no Bill Shakespeare
But that's no reason why
I should no more couplets write
At least a guy can try.
So hereafter, Mr. Editor,
Or be it Miss instead,
Please print my stuff as is --
My public must not be mislead.
-- Ben Starr

My dear Ben Starr:
We got your song
Upon the "dink" *
We thought it much too long.
We cut it down
To not waste ink.
We still don't think we're wrong.
Now you'd behead
Ye Ed because
Your public's been misled.
Don't worry 'bout
Your public's claws.
It's long gone, long been dead.

P.S.  Henceforth Pote Starr will have to submit his works in person, to receive consideration. -- Ed.

* A quick visit to Wikipedia explained this cheeky reference to "Dink's Song," an America folk standard revived by Pete Seeger, and later Bob Dylan and Dave Van Ronk.  Also featured on the soundtrack for "Inside Llewyn Davis."  "Fare-the-well... my honey."