The Republican National Convention kicks off in Cleveland today, and a week from today Democrats will convene in Philadelphia. To honor this quadrennial catharsis, I have chosen a work by twentieth century humorist and poet Ogden Nash, a piece that I first read as a teenager. Nash, like Lewis Carroll, often mangled words or created them out of whole cloth to suit his rhyme schemes and colorful imagery - and his finished products were shiny bits of America.
In "Love Under the Republicans (or Democrats)" Nash laments the tarnish and dust that quietly gather over life - no matter how exciting things may seem, monotony is just around the corner.
Love Under the Republicans (or Democrats)
by Ogden Nash
Come live with me and be my love
And we will all the pleasures prove
Of a marriage conducted with economy
In the Twentieth Century Anno Donomy.
We’ll live in a dear little walk-up flat
With practically room to swing a cat
And a potted cactus to give it hauteur
And a bathtub equipped with dark brown water.
We’ll eat, without undue discouragement,
Foods low in cost but high in nouragement
And quaff with pleasure, while chatting wittily,
The peculiar wine of Little Italy.
We’ll remind each other it’s smart to be thrifty
And buy our clothes for something-fifty.
We’ll bus for miles on holidays
For seas at depressing matinees,
And every Sunday we’ll have a lark
And take a walk in Central Park.
And one of these days not too remote
You’ll probably up and cut my throat.