A Tale Of The Thirteenth Floor (Ogden Nash Poems)
The hands of the clock were reaching high In an old midtown hotel; I name no name, but its sordid ...
The hands of the clock were reaching high In an old midtown hotel; I name no name, but its sordid ...
Go hang yourself, you old M.D.! You shall not sneer at me. Pick up your hat and stethoscope, Go wash ...
This is my dream, It is my own dream, I dreamt it. I dreamt that my hair was kempt. Then ...
My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky; Contrariwise, my blood runs cold When little boys ...
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