Stumps On Corner Dumps Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

If she wasn't working,
He wasn't there.
And 'if' he was there...
It was the first of every month.

Chumps and ball handlers.
Stumps on corner dumps.
To define them as punks...
Would defend them as spineless men.

She's been led to believe,
That man independent...
Not needing a woman to feed his needs,
Just has to be 'that way'.
You know...
Limped wrist and gay.

And she and her girlfriends,
When they sit at the bars...
Talking about themselves,
For hours and hours.
And who is not a man...
Doing what a man can!
They get up and leave...
To tweak each other's needs.
With a tweaking done to please.

She's been led to believe,
That man independent...
Not needing a woman to feed his needs,
Just has to be 'that way'.
You know...
Limped wrist and gay.

If she wasn't working,
He wasn't there.
And 'if' he was there...
It was the first of every month.

Chumps and ball handlers.
Stumps on corner dumps.
To define them as punks...
Would defend them as spineless men.
But who is left in the household...
To encourage, raise and discipline them?

And she and her girlfriends,
When they sit at the bars...
Talking about themselves,
For hours and hours.
And who is not a man...
Doing what a man can!
They get up and leave...
To tweak each other's needs.
With a tweaking done to please.