Piffle (poetry)

1911

PIFFLE.
There's a word that means a lot,
That will often get your goat.
It's a cynic's hottest shot,
That he hammers down your throat.
It's a nasty little word,
But for withering it's a bird—
Piffle.

When you've spouted all your soul
In an effort to appear
Wise and heavy, on the whole,
And some chap begins to sneer.
Isn't it an awful shame
That one word will gum your game?
Piffle.

Oh, the irony, the cut!
Oh the way it makes you feel!
Any star becomes a mutt
At the finish of his spiel,
When some fellow speaks to say
In a sharp, conclusive way
Piffle.

When you've read this little verse
You'll perhaps be wondering why
It was writ, though quick and terse
with sickness in your eye.
You will mutter, "What a dolt!"
Then will come that awful jolt—
Piffle!

—Baltimore Evening Sun