THE lanky hank of a she in the inn over there <br />Nearly killed me for asking the loan of a glass of beer: <br />May the devil grip the whey-faced slut by the hair, <br />And beat bad manners out of her skin for a year. <br /> <br />That parboiled imp, with the hardest jaw you will see <br />On virtue’s path, and a voice that would rasp the dead, <br />Came roaring and raging the minute she looked on me, <br />And threw me out of the house on the back of my head! <br /> <br />If I asked her master he’d give me a cask a day; <br />But she, with the beer at hand, not a gill would arrange! <br />May she marry a ghost and bear him a kitten, and may <br />The High King of Glory permit her to get the mange.<br /><br />James Stephens<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/righteous-anger-2/
