Baby Combover

Holly came to visit for a day and in the midst of some really great conversation we were reminded of a short obsession I had with the hilarious David Kirby poem, "The Search for Baby Combover." I think that poetry often gets bogged down by a reputation for self-importance and pedantry. "The Search for Baby Combover" subverts our expectations by being irreverent and funny, but it isn't the only amusing contemporary poem out there. But you don't have to take my word for it! Ha!

The first stanzas:

        In Paris one night the doorbell rings,
        and there's this little guy, shaking like a leaf
        and going "uh-uh-uh-UNH-ah!" and his eyes get big
        and he raises his hands like a gospel singer
        and goes "UNH-ah-uh-uh-uh-UNH-uh-ah!"

        and for just a fraction of a second I think
        he's doing the first part of Wilson Pickett's
        "Land of a Thousand Dances" and he wants me
        to join him in some kind of weird welcome
        to the neighborhood, so I raise my hands a little

        and begin to sort of hum along, though
        not very loudly in case I'm wrong about this,
        and I'm smiling the way old people smile
        when they can't hear you but want you to know
        that everything's okay as far as they're concerned...

The rest, along with some info on Mr. Kirby, can be found here.

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