NOV: MIB: Archy Interviews a Pharaoh

MIB could stand for Men In Black, or for the Meiringen-Innertkirchen Bahn, but in this case it stands for Mail Inspired By. I'd like to try a series of mail swaps inspired by a piece of art, a poem, an unexpected news item, a piece of music or a historical event.

To kick off this series, in the spirit of Oktoberfest and Halloween and general thankfulness for life's small blessings, I'd like to honor one of my favorites: a poem that appears in Archy and Mehitabel, by Don Marquis. Archy is a cockroach who lives in a New York newspaper office; in a past life, he was a free-verse poet, and as a result, he can't help wanting to hop up on the typewriter to leave wry little social commentaries on current events. The newspaper runs his material as space-fillers (this was back in the day when they needed space fillers, and when there was real "controversy" in the newspapers -- Archy first appeared in 1916!). Archy's writing in all in lowercase because it is to difficult for him to operate the capital letters on the typewriter.

The subject of this poem is a touring exhibit of Egyptian artifacts in the 1920's. The mummy in the exhibit longs for a drink of beer, but he is disappointed to find out that he is touring the United States during Prohibition, when the sales of alcohol were banned. Some of the language in the poem is very "jazzy" -- the "jazz age" was in full swing.

I hope that you, too, enjoy the silliness and creativity of the poem (I love all the "dry" language!) and that it inspires you to create a piece of mail. You may create a letter, a zine, mail art, an ATC, a bookmark, a postcard, or anything else that you want to create for your partner. The emphasis of these swaps will be the use of the inspiration as a leaping-off point for your imagination :)

Here is the poem:

archy interviews a pharaoh

By Don Marquis, in “archy and mehitabel,” 1927

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 perial 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 as 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

More on Archy and Mehitabel

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