Here you will find the Poem Eleventh Avenue Racket of poet Carl Sandburg
There is something terrible about a hurdy-gurdy, a gipsy man and woman, and a monkey in red flannel all stopping in front of a big house with a sign ?For Rent? on the door and the blinds hanging loose and nobody home. I never saw this. I hope to God I never will. Whoop-de-doodle-de-doo. Hoodle-de-harr-de-hum. Nobody home? Everybody home. Whoop-de-doodle-de-doo. Mamie Riley married Jimmy Higgins last night: Eddie Jones died of whooping cough: George Hacks got a job on the police force: the Rosenheims bought a brass bed: Lena Hart giggled at a jackie: a pushcart man called tomaytoes, tomaytoes. Whoop-de-doodle-de-doo. Hoodle-de-harr-de-hum. Nobody home? Everybody home.
