Small-Town Vice Poem by Robert Winthrop

Like any other river town, our Hannibal had vice
Although it wasn't spoken of by those considered 'nice.'
But even boys of ten or twelve along the way had heard
That something strange was going on at One-Eleven Bird.
And those who stopped to by some cigs at 'Chiz' Mahoney's store
Knew more than friendly games of cards took place behind the door.
And 'proper' girls were never found in certain Broadway bars
Nor in some well-known lovers lanes in steamy-windowed cars.
The whole town knew just who was 'wild' and who was 'stepping out, '
Who danced 'across the river' and whose lineage was in doubt.
Sometimes there was a stabbing at the 'Blue Goose' on the Wedge,
But that was just those 'colored folks' and they lived on the edge
Of what passed for society in our old river town.
The really juicy gossip spread when rich folks played the clown
By having one too many at the Country Club one night
Or being caught in strangers' beds or in a barroom fight.
Back then cohabitation could make you land in jail.
The paper called it 'rooming' and printed each detail.
The only drugs we knew of then were sold at Walkup's store.
And three-two beer on Sundays made the drinkers wish for more.
Today it all seems pretty tame, but then it did suffice
To set the tongues a-wagging with tales of small-town vice.