I quite forgot to put the spigot in. It's just come over me.... And it is queer To think he'll not care if we lose or win And yet be jumping-mad about that beer. I left it running full. He must have said A thing or two. I'd give my stripes to hear What he will say if I'm reported dead Before he gets me told about that beer! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PRAYER AT SUNRISE by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON DOMESDAY BOOK: ALMA BELL TO THE CORONER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TO A SCREEN-MAKER by MARIANNE MOORE STANZAS ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND by REGINALD HEBER THE DRUM: THE NARRATIVE OF THE DEMON OF TEDWORTH by EDITH SITWELL TO THE ONE OF FICTIVE MUSIC by WALLACE STEVENS |