Ambrose Gwinnet Bierce

Here you will find the Poem Safety-Clutch of poet Ambrose Gwinnet Bierce


Once I seen a human ruin 
 In a elevator-well. 
 And his members was bestrewin' 
 All the place where he had fell. 
 And I says, apostrophisin' 
 That uncommon woful wreck: 
 "Your position's so surprisin' 
 That I tremble for your neck!" 
 Then that ruin, smilin' sadly 
 And impressive, up and spoke: 
 "Well, I wouldn't tremble badly, 
 For it's been a fortnight broke." 

 Then, for further comprehension 
 Of his attitude, he begs 
 I will focus my attention 
 On his various arms and legs-- 

 How they all are contumacious; 
 Where they each, respective, lie; 
 How one trotter proves ungracious, 
 T' other one an alibi. 

 These particulars is mentioned 
 For to show his dismal state, 
 Which I wasn't first intentioned 
 To specifical relate. 

 None is worser to be dreaded 
 That I ever have heard tell 
 Than the gent's who there was spreaded 
 In that elevator-well. 

 Now this tale is allegoric-- 
 It is figurative all, 
 For the well is metaphoric 
 And the feller didn't fall. 

 I opine it isn't moral 
 For a writer-man to cheat, 
 And despise to wear a laurel 
 As was gotten by deceit. 

 For 'tis Politics intended 
 By the elevator, mind, 
 It will boost a person splendid 
 If his talent is the kind. 

 Col. Bryan had the talent 
 (For the busted man is him) 
 And it shot him up right gallant 
 Till his head began to swim. 

 Then the rope it broke above him 
 And he painful came to earth 
 Where there's nobody to love him 
 For his detrimented worth. 

 Though he's living' none would know him, 
 Or at leastwise not as such. 
 Moral of this woful poem: 
 Frequent oil your safety-clutch.Porfer Poog.