Yore pore ol pardner
El Tigre del Norte
Be Calm, Don, We Know It Not
'Twas just yesternight I saw your name drawn in slow convoluted coils across the blank
platitudes of other egoists. I love you! Your name is as the warm stars on the deserts of
Sonora, my Sonora .... Querida Mia! I know you! You are tall and slim, smooth and very
sophisticated ... you are the white, thin notes of mellow guitars searching through
moonlit patios. In the name of the twisted white sands of Mexico -- send me your phone number!
Pseudonym not on Dec 14 list
I wuz sitting by Glooming Gus in Wash Park where he stands lookin over the "Don't Shove"
monument when I sees a guy reading thu Daily Moroon'n weeping! I sez to him "Y'aint readin' thu
Whistle?" "Naw," sez he, "I wuz reflectin' on how they allus returns to the scene of their
crimes!" "Huh!" I allows. "Yups" sez he, "Look!" "RETIRED PROFESSOR RETURNS TO THE CAMPUS."
After all -- It aint because we lack steam
that the Whistle aint blown!"