Song for the Clatter-Bones
Higgins, F. R. (1896-1941)
God rest that Jewy woman, Queen Jezebel, the bitch Who peeled the clothes from her shoulder-bones Down to her spent teats As she stretched out of the window Among the geraniums, where She chaffed and laughed like one half daft Titivating her painted hair-- King Jehu he drove to her, She tipped him a fancy beck; But he from his knacky side-car spoke, "Who'll break that dewlapped neck?" And so she was thrown from the window; Like Lucifer she fell Beneath the feet of the horses and they beat The light out of Jezebel. That corpse wasn't planted in clover; Ah, nothing of her was found Save those grey bones that Hare-foot Mike Gave me for their lovely sound; And as once her dancing body Made star-lit princes sweat, So I'll just clack: though her ghost lacks a back There's music in the old bones yet.