A little-known combination

A few years back, probably 5 or 6 years, I bought a whole bunch of poetry. Well, I often buy a lot of poetry, but this specific occasion I'm mentioning happened on the Internet. I was browsing compilations and "complete works" of poetry and I found this obscure book of poems by Ernest Hemingway. I bought it without reading a single word. (And later, read it and thoroughly enjoyed it.) It might be pretentious to have certain books I am proud of owning, but this is probably one of them. Not just because it's old and weathered, but because it is not a particularly well-known book of poems. In fact, not once in high school did any of my teachers mention, whilst reading Hemingway, that he also wrote poetry. Why wouldn't anyone mention this? Doesn't it seem like a significant fact?

Anyways. Today I'm going to share two of his poems. They aren't the most deep or meaningful and certainly don't express the blatant corruption or depression or any of the mostly unpleasant things you often read in his novels. However... they make me laugh. Even if you don't understand what he's referencing, the fact that he wrote both of these poems is genius. In the book I mentioned, they are right after the other, so you really get the full effect. So, here you go. Enjoy! 

Two by Ernest Hemingway for April 19, 2013.

I Like Americans.

I like Americans.
They are so unlike Canadians.
They do not take their policemen seriously.
They come to Montreal to drink.
Not to criticize.
They claim they won the war.
But they know at heart that they didn't.
They have such respect for Englishmen.
They like to live abroad.
They do not brag about how they take baths.
But they take them.
Their teeth are so good.
And they wear B.V.D.'s all the year round.
I wish they didn't brag about it.
They have the second best navy in the world.
But they never mention it.
They would like to have Henry Ford for president.
But they will not elect him.
They saw through Bill Bryan.
They have gotten tired of Billy Sunday.
Their men have such funny hair cuts.
They are hard to suck in on Europe.
They have been there once.
They produced Barney Google, Mutt and Jeff.
And Jiggs.
They do not hang lady murderers.
They put them in vaudeville.
They read the Saturday Evening Post
And believe in Santa Claus.
When they make money
They make a lot of money.
They are fine people.

I Like Canadians.

I like Canadians.
They are so unlike Americans.
They go home at night.
Their cigarettes don't smell bad.
Their hats fit.
They really believe that they won the war.
They don't believe in Literature.
They think Art has been exaggerated.
But they are wonderful on ice skates.
A few of them are very rich.
But when they are rich they buy more horses
Than motor cars.
Chicago calls Toronto a puritan town.
But both boxing and horse-racing are illegal
In Chicago.
Nobody works on Sunday.
Nobody.
That doesn't make me mad.
There is only one Woodbine.
But were you ever at Blue Bonnets?
If you kill somebody with a motor car in Ontario
You are liable to go to jail.
So it isn't done.
There have been over 500 people killed by motor cars
In Chicago
So far this year.
It is hard to get rich in Canada.
But it is easy to make money.
There are too many tea rooms.
But, then, there are no cabarets.
If you tip a waiter a quarter
He says "Thank you."
Instead of calling the bouncer.
They let women stand up in the street cars.
Even if they are good-looking.
They are all in a hurry to get home to supper
And their radio sets.
They are a fine people.
I like them.