Banjo Poem (1867)

[Bob Sayers]

Here's a poem that I found today in an 1867 New Orleans newspaper.   It was written in jest as an example of "bad poetry," but after 150 years it has a certain charm.  I've also attached the original letterpress version which would make a nice design for a t-shirt.

In the year 1859,

I hung my banjo on a vine,

The banjo fell upon the ground

Now banjoes grow up all around.

[Strumelia]

In the year Two Oh Thirteen,

Near cat I did my banjo lean,

The strings of gut filled Puss with doom,

She caterwauled, then fled the room.

[Paul Draper]

Nice!

Strumelia said:

In the year Two Oh Thirteen,

Near cat I did my banjo lean,

The strings of gut filled Puss with doom,

She caterwauled, then fled the room.