DAISY MAE





They gathered round the checker board,
Sippin’ on moonshine from their still
There, in the old general store,
Weekday evenin’s they would kill.

Before long, the ruckus began,
As some player tried to cheat,
By secretly movin’ a man,
Settin’ a triple jump, real neat.

If his opponent wasn’t drunk,
The game would probably be won.
If not, likely the cheatin’ skunk
Would be lookin’ into a gun.

He would have to admit his play
Just wasn’t on the up and up,
Then the gun would be put away,
And each man would refill his cup.

It was a kind of friendly game, Despite those attempts at cheatin’. Heck, they would all have done the same, If there was a chance at beatin’. For, see, there was a special prize That always went to the winner. On Daisy Mae, they’d feast their eyes, At mud wrasslin’ no beginner. In the pig sty, out there in back, Daisy would take the winner on, Slippery moves, she didn’t lack, And could squirm and slide until dawn. For this, she was paid mighty well, And the boys would holler and cheer, Oblivious to the foul smell, That to ev’ry eye brought a tear. © Richard McCusker (richard_mccusker@comcast.net)

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