Half a Man
'I wash me 'ands uv 'im,' I tells 'em straight.
'You women can do wot yeh dash well like.
I leave this 'arf a man to 'is own fate;
I've done me bit, an' now I'm gone on strike.
Do wot yeh please; but don't arsk 'elp from me;
'E's give me nerves; so now I'll let 'im be.'
Doreen an' ole Mar Flood 'as got a scheme.
They've been conspirin' for a week or more
About this Digger Smith, an' now they dream
They've got 'is fucher waitin' in cold store
To 'and 'im out, an' fix 'im up for life.
But they've got Buckley's, as I tells me wife.
I've seen them whisperin' up in our room.
Now they wants me to join in the debate;
But 'Nix,' I tells 'em. 'I ain't in the boom,
An' Digger Smith ain't risin' to me bait;
'E's fur too fly a fish for me to catch,
An' two designin' women ain't 'is match.'
I puts me foot down firm, an' tells 'em, No!
Their silly plan's a thing I wouldn't touch.
An' then me wife, for 'arf an hour or so,
Talks to me confident, of nothin' much;
Then, 'fore I know it, I am all red 'ot
Into the scheme, an' leader uv the plot.
'Twas Mar Flood starts it. She got 'old uv 'im --
You know the way they 'ave with poor, weak men --
She drops a tear or two concernin' Jim;
Tells 'im wot women 'ave to bear; an' then
She got 'im talkin', like a woman can.
'E never would 'ave squeaked to any man.
She leads 'im on -- It's crook the way they scheme --
To talk about this girl 'e's let be'ind.
Not that she's pryin'! Why, she wouldn't dream! --
But speakin' uv it might jist ease 'is mind.
Then, 'fore 'e knows, 'e's told, to 'is surprise,
Name an' address -- an' colour uv 'er eyes!
An' then she's off 'ere plottin' with Doreen --
Bustin' a confidence, I tells 'em, flat.
But all me roustin' leaves 'em both serene:
Women don't see a little thing like that.
An' I ain't cooled off yet before they've got
Me workin' for 'em in this crooked plot.
Nex' day Mar Flood she takes 'er Sunday dress
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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Added by Poetry Lover
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