Monday, May 10, 2010

The Women of 1926

Mother’s advice, and Father’s fears,
Alike are voted—just a bore.
There’s Negro music in our ears,
The world’s one huge dancing floor.
We mean to tread the Primrose Path,
In spite of Mr. Joynson-Hicks.
We’re People of the Aftermath
We’re girls of 1926.

In greedy haste, on pleasure bent,
We have no time to think, or feel
What need is there for sentiment
Now we’ve invented Sex Appeal?
We’ve silken legs and scarlet lips,
We’re young and hungry, wild and free,
Our waists are round about the hips
Our shirts are well above the knee

We’ve boyish busts and Eton crops,
We quiver to the saxophone.
Come, dance before the music stops,
And who can bear to be alone?
Come drink your gin, or sniff your ‘snow’,
Since Youth is brief, and Love has wings,
And time will tarnish, ere we know,
The brightness of the Bright Young Things.

-James Laver


Love_Again said...

beautiful post. x

Anonymous said...

love, love, LOVE!

DM said...

Thanks guys! I want to have a stirring poetry reading where I read it aloud to all!

Victoria Thorne said...

quite spectacular & utterly enchanting. thanks truly.

Jay said...

I think one of my life's chief regrets is not being a girl of 1926. :(

DM said...

I concur! Well...sorta!