was an elegant cat he used

  to be a poet himself and he made up

  some elegant poetry about me and him

  lets hear it i said and

  mehitabel recited

  persian pussy from over the sea

  demure and lazy and smug and fat

  none of your ribbons and bells for me

  ours is the zest of the alley cat

  over the roofs from flat to flat

  we prance with capers corybantic

  what though a boot should break a slat

  mehitabel us for the life romantic

  we would rather be rowdy and gaunt and free

  and dine on a diet of roach and rat

  roach i said what do you

  mean roach interrupting mehitabel

  yes roach she said thats the

  way my boy friend made it up

  i climbed in amongst the typewriter

  keys for she had an excited

  look in her eyes go on mehitabel i

  said feeling safer and she

  resumed her elocution

  we would rather be rowdy and gaunt and free

  and dine on a diet of roach and rat

  than slaves to a tame society

  ours is the zest of the alley cat

  fish heads freedom a frozen sprat

  dug from the gutter with digits frantic

  is better than bores and a fireside mat

  mehitabel us for the life romantic

  when the pendant moon in the leafless tree

  clings and sways like a golden bat

  i sing its light and my love for thee

  ours is the zest of the alley cat

  missiles around us fall rat a tat tat

  but our shadows leap in a ribald antic

  as over the fences the world cries scat

  mehitabel us for the life romantic

  persian princess i dont care that

  for your pedigree traced by scribes pedantic

  ours is the zest of the alley cat

  mehitabel us for the life romantic

  aint that high brow stuff

  archy i always remembered it

  but he was an elegant gent

  even if he was a highbrow and a

  regular bohemian archy him and

  me went aboard a canal boat

  one day and he got his head into

  a pitcher of cream and couldn t get

  it out and fell overboard

  he come up once before he

  drowned toujours gai kid he

  gurgled and then sank for ever that

  was always his words archy toujours

  gai kid toujours gai i

  have known some swell gents

  in my time dearie

  the cockroach who had been to hell

  listen to me i have

  been mobbed almost

  theres an old simp cockroach

  here who thinks he has

  been to hell and all

  the young cockroaches make a

  hero out of him and admire

  him he sits and runs his front

  feet through his long white

  beard and tells the story one

  day he says he crawled into a yawning

  cavern and suddenly came on a

  vast abyss full of whirling

  smoke there was a light

  at the bottom billows

  and billows of yellow smoke

  swirled up at him and

  through the horrid gloom he

  saw things with wings flying

  and dropping and dying they veered

  and fluttered like damned

  spirits through that sulphurous mist

  listen i says to him

  old man youve never been to hell

  at all there isn t any hell

  transmigration is the game i

  used to be a human vers libre

  poet and i died and went

  into a cockroach s body if

  there was a hell id know

  it wouldn t i you re

  irreligious says the old simp

  combing his whiskers excitedly

  ancient one i says to him

  while all those other

  cockroaches gathered into a

  ring around us what you

  beheld was not hell all that

  was natural some one was fumigating

  a room and you blundered

  into it through a crack

  in the wall atheist he cries

  and all those young

  cockroaches cried atheist

  and made for me if it

  had not been for freddy

  the rat i would now be

  on my way once more i mean

  killed as a cockroach and transmigrating

  into something else well

  that old whitebearded devil is

  laying for me with his

  gang he is jealous

  because i took his glory away

  from him dont ever tell me

  insects are any more liberal

  than humans

  archy

  “greetings little scatter footed scarab,” said he.

  archy interviews a pharaoh

  boss i went

  and interviewed the mummy

  of the egyptian pharaoh

  in the metropolitan museum

  as you bade me to do

  what ho

  my regal leatherface

  says i

  greetings

  little scatter footed

  scarab

  says he

  kingly has been

  says i

  what was your ambition

  when you had any

  insignificant

  and journalistic insect

  says the royal crackling

  in my tender prime

  i was too dignified

  to have anything as vulgar

  as ambition

  the ra ra boys

  in the seti set

  were too haughty

  to be ambitious

  we used to spend our time

  feeding the ibises

  and ordering

  pyramids sent home to try on

  but if i had my life

  to live over again

  i would give dignity

  the regal razz

  and hire myself out

  to work in a brewery

  old tan and tarry

  says i

  i detect in your speech

  the overtones

  of melancholy

  yes i am sad

  says the majestic mackerel

  i am as sad

  as the song

  of a soudanese jackal

  who is wailing for the blood red

  moon he cannot reach and rip

  on what are you brooding

  with such a wistful

  wishfulness

  there in the silences

  confide in me

  my imperial pretzel

  says i

  i brood on beer

  my scampering whiffle snoot

  on beer says he

  my sympathies

  are with your royal

  dryness says i

  my little pest

  says he

  you must be respectful

  in the presence

  of a mighty desolation

  little archy

  forty centuries of thirst

  look down upon you

  oh by isis

  and by osiris

  says the princely raisin

  and by pish and phthush and phthah

  by the sacred book perembru

  and all the gods

  that rule from the upper

  cataract of the nile

  to the delta of the duodenum

  i am dry

  i am as dry

  as the next morning mouth

/>   of a dissipated desert

  as dry as the hoofs

  of the camels of timbuctoo

  little fussy face

  i am as dry as the heart

  of a sand storm

  at high noon in hell

  i have been lying here

  and there

  for four thousand years

  with silicon in my esophagus

  and gravel in my gizzard

  thinking

  thinking

  thinking

  of beer

  divine drouth

  says i

  imperial fritter

  continue to think

  there is no law against

  that in this country

  old salt codfish

  if you keep quiet about it

  not yet

  what country is this

  asks the poor prune

  my reverend juicelessness

  this is a beerless country

  says i

  well well said the royal

  desiccation

  my political opponents back home

  always maintained

  that i would wind up in hell

  and it seems they had the right dope

  and with these hopeless words

  the unfortunate residuum

  gave a great cough of despair

  and turned to dust and debris

  right in my face

  it being the only time

  i ever actually saw anybody

  put the cough

  into sarcophagus

  dear boss as i scurry about

  i hear of a great many

  tragedies in our midsts

  personally i yearn

  for some dear friend to pass over

  and leave to me

  a boot legacy

  yours for the second coming

  of gambrinus

  archy

  thinking

  thinking

  thinking

  a spider and a fly

  i heard a spider

  and a fly arguing

  wait said the fly

  do not eat me

  i serve a great purpose

  in the world

  you will have to

  show me said the spider

  i scurry around

  gutters and sewers

  and garbage cans

  said the fly and gather

  up the germs of

  typhoid influenza

  and pneumonia on my feet

  and wings

  then i carry these germs

  into the households of men

  and give them diseases

  all the people who

  have lived the right

  sort of life recover

  from the diseases

  and the old soaks who

  have weakened their systems

  with liquor and iniquity

  succumb it is my mission

  to help rid the world

  of these wicked persons

  i am a vessel of righteousness

  scattering seeds of justice

  and serving the noblest uses

  it is true said the spider

  that you are more

  useful in a plodding

  material sort of way

  than i am but i do not

  serve the utilitarian deities

  i serve the gods of beauty

  look at the gossamer webs

  i weave they float in the sun

  like filaments of song

  if you get what i mean

  i do not work at anything

  i play all the time

  i am busy with the stuff

  of enchantment and the materials

  of fairyland my works

  transcend utility

  i am the artist

  a creator and a demi god

  it is ridiculous to suppose

  that i should be denied

  the food i need in order

  to continue to create

  beauty i tell you

  plainly mister fly it is all

  damned nonsense for that food

  to rear up on its hind legs

  and say it should not be eaten

  you have convinced me

  said the fly say no more

  and shutting all his eyes

  he prepared himself for dinner

  and yet he said i could

  have made out a case

  for myself too if i had

  had a better line of talk

  of course you could said the spider

  clutching a sirloin from him

  but the end would have been

  just the same if neither of

  us had spoken at all

  boss i am afraid that what

  the spider said is true

  and it gives me to think

  furiously upon the futility

  of literature

  archy

  freddy the rat perishes

  listen to me there have

  been some doings here since last

  i wrote there has been a battle

  behind that rusty typewriter cover

  in the corner

  you remember freddy the rat well

  freddy is no more but

  he died game the other

  day a stranger with a lot of

  legs came into our

  little circle a tough looking kid

  he was with a bad eye

  who are you said a thousand legs

  if i bite you once

  said the stranger you won t ask

  again he he little poison tongue said

  the thousand legs who gave you hydrophobia

  i got it by biting myself said

  the stranger i m bad keep away

  from me where i step a weed dies

  if i was to walk on your forehead it would

  raise measles and if

  you give me any lip i ll do it

  they mixed it then

  and the thousand legs succumbed

  well we found out this fellow

  was a tarantula he had come up from

  south america in a bunch of bananas

  for days he bossed us life

  was not worth living he would stand in

  the middle of the floor and taunt

  us ha ha he would say where i

  step a weed dies do

  you want any of my game i was

  raised on red pepper and blood i am

  so hot if you scratch me i will light

  like a match you better

  with military honors

  dodge me when i m feeling mean and

  i don t feel any other way i was nursed

  on a tabasco bottle if i was to slap

  your wrist in kindness you

  would boil over like job and heaven

  help you if i get angry give me

  room i feel a wicked spell coming on

  last night he made a break at freddy

  the rat keep your distance

  little one said freddy i m not

  feeling well myself somebody poisoned some

  cheese for me im as full of

  death as a drug store i

  feel that i am going to die anyhow

  come on little torpedo come on don t stop

  to visit and search then they

  went at it and both are no more please

  throw a late edition on the floor i want to

  keep up with china we dropped freddy

  off the fire escape into the alley with

  military honors

  archy

  the merry flea

  the high cost of

  living isn t so bad if you

  dont have to pay for it i met

  a flea the other day who

  was grinning all over

  himself why so merry why so

  merry little bolshevik i asked him
/>
  i have just come from a swell

  dog show he said i have

  been lunching off a dog that was

  worth at least one hundred

  dollars a pound you should be

  ashamed to brag about it i said with so

  many insects and humans on

  short rations in the world today the

  public be damned he said i

  take my own where i find it those are

  bold words i told him i am a bold

  person he said and bold words are

  fitting for me it was

  only last thursday that i marched

  bravely into the zoo

  and bit a lion what did he do i asked

  he lay there and took it said

  the flea what else could he do he knew i

  had his number and it was

  little use to struggle some day i said

  even you will be conquered terrible as

  you are who will do it he

  said the mastodons are all dead and i

  am not afraid of any mere

  elephant i asked him how about a microbe and

  he turned pale as he thought it

  over there is always some

  little thing that is too

  big for us every

  goliath has his david and so on ad finitum

  but what said the flea is the

  terror of the smallest microbe of all

  he i said is afraid of a vacuum what is

  there in a vacuum to make one afraid

  said the flea there is nothing in it

  i said and that is what makes one

  afraid to contemplate it a person

  can t think of a place with nothing at

  all in it without going nutty and if he

  tries to think that nothing is

  something after all he gets nuttier you at

  too subtle for me said the

  flea i never took much stock in being

  scared of hypodermic propositions or

  hypothetical injections i am

  going to have dinner off a

  man eating tiger if a vacuum gets

  me i will try and send you word

  before the worst comes to

  the worst some people i told him inhabit

  a vacuum all their lives and

  never know it then he said it don t

  hurt them any no i said it dont but it

  hurts people who have to associate

  with them and with these words

  we parted each feeling

  superior to the other and is not that

  feeling after all one of the great

  desiderata of social intercourse