Ima Ryma


Murray Hall - Poem by Ima Ryma

1800's - no womens' lib,
So New York City's Murray Hall
Began to tell a little fib,
'Twas just politics after all.
A Tammany politician,
Murray was a man about town,
Puffing at cigars, one by one,
And gulping shots of bourbon down.
Murray was married at least twice,
Quite sweet on ladies, so 'twas said.
Engaged in all the manly vice.
And then one day, Murray dropped dead.

Doc checked the corpse - how could this be?
Murray was not a he - but she.


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Poem Submitted: Saturday, September 28, 2013

Poem Edited: Monday, September 30, 2013


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