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It's a bit disappointing, but not at all surprising, to learn that these aren't actually poems from a street ruffian but the work of a novelist and humorist. Even so they're still pretty amusing especially since much of the slang is so dated that it's unfamiliar ("But spite of bug-wheels in my cocoa tree"). Irwin followed this with The Love Sonnets of a Car Conductor, a short book of poems retelling fairy tales as lurid news pieces, and far too much racist work like Chinatown Ballads.
