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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required On the top floor of Smidget’s, you could stay, if you paid, ‘Twas a clean-running place, now, so don’t be dismayed… ‘Twas up there, I’d a run-in with one of the boys, For his snoring and mumbling had made quite a noise… “I’ve no wish to fight you,” the bright young man said – He stared at me then, and I thought I was dead, For he fingered a knife that he kept in his belt (I was sure that he wanted my skin and my pelt.) But Puggily Smidget and Guru appeared, Things began to look up, it was not as I feared! For they each had a pistol (one was trained on my head And one on the youngster who wanted me dead.) “Now lie down, each one of you,” Prettisome said, “or each one of you will be a-wishing he’s dead! We’ll shoot off your noses, and shoot out your ears, And then leave you looking like that all your years!” So, I laid down my club, and he dropped his bright knife, And each one of us muttered and prayed for his life. But pretty soon, Smidget was whistling a tune, (It was one she’d picked up from the downstairs saloon) And Prettisome (who was her mother, it seems) Came and knocked us both out, pistol-whip: “boys, sweet dreams!” Then, when we came to, we were both wearing aprons, And Prettisome said, “get out there, serve the patrons!” Out there, twenty cowboys, as rough as I’d seen, Were calling for whiskey, and each man looked mean, But the boy and I poured out, again and again, Until, of the twenty, not sleeping, were ten. So, I picked up the OUZO, and poured THEM all some, And they all drank it off, and their lips all turned numb, And their eyes glazed a bit, and they fell to the floor Except one old geezer, who wanted some more… The boy and I crept out, then, near silently, And met to continue our brawl ‘neath a tree But it seemed, by that time, that his anger was spent, And mine? Well, I couldn’t have said where it went… “I’ve no wish to fight you,” the young man then said, “Nor I, you,” I replied, and he pulled some old bread From a pocket he had, just inside of his coat, And we had bread, with OUZO, to wet a dry throat… 3/1/2019
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