Tony Grist
A Ghost in the White House
William Henry Harrison haunts
The attic. How do they know it’s him?
Have they looked him up in the spotter’s guide?
Now when the Queen of the Netherlands
Threw wide her door to a midnight knock
And standing there was a see-through Lincoln -
Bingo - instant recognition,
But Harrison?
O fame, you minx,
Harrison was a dude in his time.
An Indian fighter and long-nose handsome.
Death must have loved him very much.
It sent a loon with a knife to fetch him.
Brave old Harrison roped the guy up
With curtain cord. A week or two after
Little sure-shot pneumonia got him.
All because he wouldn’t wrap up
At his misty, moisty victory parade.
He had served a month, he was number nine.
Page(s) 35
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