Robert Correy

(with the usual apologies to Edwin Arlington Robinson)

Alan C. Elms

Yes, Robert Correy was a scientist,
A type we townsmen commonly despise.
But dogs and children loved him (both he kissed),
And atoms sometimes played around his eyes.

And he would always wear his rumpled suit,
And when it "looked like rain," would nod assent,
Though when we all cursed Darwin, he stood mute,
And when we blasphemed Reds, he frowned and went.

And he would shake the preacher's hand at church,
And smile to dirty beggars on the street;
We thought him fine for his humane research,
And praised his quiet ardor when we'd meet.

So on we lived, and fought for fame and chrome,
And raised our cloistered daughters when they fell,
And Correy, one calm summer night, went home,
And made a bomb, and blew us all to hell.

Falling Through Eden Jack Robert Correy The Frog A Behaviorist to His Love forty Sonnet on an Ice-Floe How Khrushchev Stole ... My Life in 3 Paragraphs fifty With Love to X

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