Samuel Hoffenstein
Progress
They’ll soon be flying to Mars, I hear-
But how do you open a bottle of beer?
I flash will take you from Nome to New York-
But how the hell do you pull a cork?
They’ll rocketeer you to Hibernia-
But open a window and get a hernia.
They’ve stripped space from the wind’w blue-
But where’s a lace that fits a shoe?
Where is the key that fits the lock?
Where is a garter that fits a sock?
They’ll hop to the moon and skip to the stars,
But what’ll stay put is the lids to jars.
The mighty telescope looks far,
But finds no place to park a car.
The world crackles with cosmic minds
Tangled up in Venetian blinds.
One day they’ll resurrect the dead,
Who’ll die again of colds of the head.