Harpo's hair all tangled wig,
Groucho's zingers skewer, dig,
Chico--mirthful cursing style,
Gummo, Zeppo left--too mild.

Boys were really zany guys,
Boisterous trio cracking wise.
Wit-semantic jokes proclaim:
Writer for 'em, Perelman.
"Har-dee-har," these crazy things
Roll me to the floor, chortling.

Crying I am, bent on floor,
Cry with laughter, never bored.
Zany guys first spoke Plattdueuetsch,
Offspring of immigrant Jews.

Then I stretch out, watch, and see
Insane first-rate levity.
These hams are funny as hell,
Threesome clowns, each man croons--well,
Harpo honks his horns, can't sing,
Rolls me on the new flooring.

Hail the new-born prints; I'm pleased,
Frames restored have been released.
Lightened, bright; the restoring
Richness to the viewing brings.

Wild or gloriously wry,
Born in New York were these guys,
Born sons of Minnie Schoenberg.
Born each a jest thaumaturge.*
Hardly have I been watching. . .
Rolling on the floor chortling.


*magician, worker of miracles