Who you think you talkin' to like that, boy? Some alkie...
Or riffraff?
You sure cain't be talkin' to a bonafide New Orleans
Resident like me like that. No sir. Not to me.
I'm the onliest one wurth sumthin' on this whole block...
Maybe two blocks.
'Cause I got what them filthy drunks over there ain't...
I got city breedin', boy. That's importunt.
I happen to be the vulnerable connosure of the
Inexpensive and economicul varities of the liquid
Nectur of the grape.
I got digifide discermint, boy...I spend whole minutes
Perusin' wine shelves until I espy what my palit will
Find to its satusfacshun.
Why, them dirty drunks come to me just for advice on
Price.
Now, that's a moot point. Some wine is deelectuble at a dollar
A fifth...some at six bits a pint. But, the best
Is around eighty cints a quart.
Thrift, boy, always 'member thrift.
That's exakly how I've come to be such a well-known
Success in my chosen occupashun...
Block advisur, boy,
Block advisur.
elysabeth faslund
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-got-city-breedin-boy-humor/
