My Friend the Cuckold
I KNEW a cuckold once. I grieve for him.
When his wife's sin was told him by some tattler,
The news made all existence bleak and grim
And wrecked his home, which was, in fact, the Statler.
" A horsewhip!" he kept shouting. " Yes, I swear
I'll horsewhip that seducer so abhorred!"
He could not buy a horsewhip anywhere,
Not from Sears Roebuck nor Montgomery Ward.
For farm and stock whips, drovers' whips, and quirts
Alone are catalogued. " It is my ruin!"
He cried. " The horsewhip heals our honor's hurts.
Who ever heard of quirting a Don Juan?"
He sought relief in drink, which made him ill.
" Je suis cocu! " he would complain, demanding
One's sympathy. " I use the French, for still
In France the cuckold has a certain standing.
" But here the general public does not know — "
And somewhat horribly he gasped and chuckled —
" Even the right pronunciation. Oh,
It is not gay, my friend, to be a cuckold!"
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