Petty Pantry [1920's Slang] Poem by R.K. Cowles

Prior to leaving to the petty pantry

I had the radio to “The Perfect Fool”

With a lollapalooza comedy guest

Tonight I plan to have me a cat’s meow

Going to take out my snuggle pup

To experience the silver screen

For the first time this year

Will be driving her in my used Packard

Which uses ethyl that I’ve purchased?

From a neighbor and a pal assisted him

In restoring the twin six

I have to get a wiggle on; I don’t want to be late

Don’t want my snuggle pup head out with another fella

A big night I’ve planned

Will ask her to be insured to me

Had purchased me handcuffs from the local jeweler's

The orchid cost me limbs

Have a choice of films

“The General” with Buster Keaton

And Lon Chaney’s “The Unknown”

Until on the radio before learning

They mentioned an amazing pianoist

Would be on the ivories

During the showing of a new film

From a few good pals

Most likely he’ll be sporting his soup-and-fish

Looking like a sugar daddy

Most likely that gold-digger

Will be present wooing the pianist with her Juliet

Possibly a headache band upon it

I’m old enough this year

So my snuggle pup and I would be without

A fire extinguisher present

To keep me from an eel’s hip

I head to the parlor and snatch up

My best plus fours and best shirt

That I purchased for big events like this

I change out of my oxford bags

And into the special clothes

This evening I’ll be putting on the ritz

Hopefully tonight will not be like

A week before

When this swanky lounge lizard

Tried to play me

Attempting to have me suck the bamboo

When I refused

I took a couple saps

To the kiester from him

I had cast a kitten

When the cops believed his line

They didn’t let me mooch there for five chimes

They thought I was off my nuts

Either thinking I was a sad sap

Who slipped and fell upon my kiester

Or I was fried to the hat

Because an iota of hooch could be sniffed

Yet only had two hair of the dogs

At the local barrelhouse

Before we arrived a block away

Couple of fellas looking like junk peddlers

Assuming I am a hot fiend

Attempting to sell me some hop

Yet I kept ankling with my snuggle pup

Acknowledging they were a couple of fly dicks

At the ticket booth a ritzy dapper rush the lady clerk

After him, a trio of chunks of led

Passing by a few bell bottoms

Once in a group of lolly gaggers in front

They always slay me

On my left in back

Is where the smoke eaters congregate

A few frosh, center left

The one with the cheaters looked ossified

A group of smarties to my right

In the back, couple of them seemed too risqué

At the time

Those keen flappers call themselves “Gnat’s Whistles”

A few others I see are not present at the time

They all wear their hair in bobs

Like the dutchboy, eton crop and shingled bob

I can tell they don on rayon stockings

It’s early yet

But with the ivories performances

They come on like gangbusters

Will anticipate a jam-packed cinematic house

Those bell bottoms I noticed

Have entered

Then I noticed that goldigger is here now

Located closest to the pianist and his ivories

Then the trio of hot sketches shows up in the center

Eventually the seats are cumulated

With movie goers

The theatre goes dark

Then the silver screen of the year begins