#patrick barrington

Patrick Barrington (Guayanian, b. 1931), Self Portrait, 1957. Oil on masonite

Patrick Barrington Self Portrait Guyana (1957) Oil on masonite (hardboard) [Source]

I had a Hippopotamus, I kept him in a shed And fed him upon vitamins and vegetable bread I made him my companion on many cheery walks And had his portrait done by a celebrity in chalk His charming eccentricities were known on every side The creatures' popularity was wonderfully wide He frolocked with the Rector in a dozen friendly tussles Who could not but remark on his hippopotamuscles If he should be affected by depression or the dumps By hippopotameasles or the hippopotamumps I never knew a particle of peace 'till it was plain He was hippopotamasticating properly again I had a Hippopotamus, I loved him as a friend But beautiful relationships are bound to have an end Time takes alas! our joys from us and rids us of our blisses My hippopotamus turned out to be a hippopotamisses My house keeper regarded him with jaundice in her eye She did not want a colony of hippotami She borrowed a machine gun from from her soldier nephew, Percy And showed my hippopotamus no hippopotamercy My house now lacks that glamour that the charming creature gave The garage where I kept him is now as silent as the grave No longer he displays among the motor tyres and spanners His hippopotamastery of hippopotamanners No longer now he gambols in the orchards in the spring No longer do I lead him through the village on a string No longer in the morning does the neighbourhood rejoice To his hippopotamusically-meditated voice I had a hippopotamus but nothing upon earth Is constant in its happines or lasting in its mirth No joy that life can give me can be strong enough to smother My sorrow for that might-have-been-a-hippopota-mother.