by Dorothy Parker
When I've made a million dollars—it may take a year or two
At the present rate of speed that things are going—
There are various little matters that are somewhat overdue,
And the prospect, at the moment, isn't glowing;
But as soon as I've a million, as I started in to say,
Life will be, I take it, gloriously happy;
For already I am planning to expend it in a way
That will be, if I may say it, rather snappy.
I will charter me a taxicab of cheery white and brown,
And you'll never catch me glancing at the meter!
And I'll make a little tour of all the milliners in town;
And the question is, Could anything be sweeter?
Just for stamps and lunch and cigarettes, each morn I'll draw a check
For a thousand dollars, payable to bearer,
And you'll hear the pearls a-clanking, as I drape them on my neck.
It occurs to me that little could be fairer.
It is true that a million doesn't take you very far,
And it's hard to find another when you've shot it;
But I'll blow it like the widely known inebriated tar,
For I want to be a good one while I've got it.
So the minute I've a million, I'll go right ahead and spend,
Though it doesn't last me more than over Sunday.
In the meantime, though, I wonder, as a favor to a friend,
Could you let me have a dollar—say, till Monday?