Has anyone ever encountered the following bawdy piece of WWI doggerel? Vive le cast iron steel the pilot's best friend For who would have his cock and balls shot free So that he could no proper part of England be No progeny and wealth acquire Some Fokker having blasted his desire. Come celebrate with me the thin steel sheet Where languidly we park our meat Thus shielding England's tools and seed Against our country's future need. It pops up in a Hemingway manuscript where the character is a former WWI pilot, but I haven't been able to track down the source. If anyone could help it would be much appreciated!
|