Oscar Smiled

''The only thing worse than having a big fat arse is having no arse at all''

I'm sure my discerning and cultured readers are familiar with the works of the Irish raconteur and self-acclaimed genius Oscar Wilde. He lived a charmed life for the most part and was greatly admired for his ready wit and repartee. However, things didn't go well for poor Oscar after he buggered the son of the Marquis of Queensbury. In those days (1890s), the practice of putting yer winky up another man's arse (arse) was not only a sin but a grave crime. Though Oscar put up a spirited defence at his trial (x2), he was ultimately found guilty and sentenced to 2 years of hard labour (1895-1897) to be spent at Reading Gaol. During his incarceration, he wrote the 'Ballad of Reading Gaol'.  Apparently, the work was inspired by the fate of a fellow inmate who was charged with the murder of his faithless wife. The chap in question was a member of the Queen's Guard, and was duly hanged for his crime. In this spirit, I have penned a poem dedicated to an old acquaintance of mine, entitled 'The Ballard of Lugless Douglas'. As I recall, Dougy (for it is he) was not over-endowed with intelligence. As Douglas was virtually unemployable, he was forced to rely on his wits to travel through this veil of tears we call life. This, of course, was a calamity of the first order as poor Doug could not read or write. Interestingly, and like many dullards, he considered himself a self-proclaimed expert on all and sundry. His lack of cerebral matter had a serious and doleful influence on his life, and he was oft the target of the local constabulary and the law courts. However, his downfall occurred not because of a brush with the law but as a consequence of not paying an instalment from a loan from the local unlicensed 'Money Lender', 'Razor Eric'. For most of us, the name 'Razor' would be a clue that perhaps it would be best not to enter a business relationship with this gentleman.  Sadly, Dougy, at this stage in his life, was denied the conventional means of legal credit, and usuary was not a word that abided in his limited lexicon. Read on, gentle reader, to hear of Douglas' sanguinary fate.    

Although my version may lack Oscar Wilde's artistic brilliance, its virtue lies in its brevity.

   The Ballard of Lugless Douglas.

                    He wore his scarlet shell suit,             

      Stained with beer and food,

              And nicotine stained his hands

              When they found him on the road,

              The poor man had lost an ear,

              And the bloody stump did exude.

              He tottered amongst the drunken men,

              An earhole was rent and tore;  

              A knotted hanky was on his head,

              An orifice spewing gore;

              But I never saw a man

              Spewing forth such bright red ichor.

             I never saw a man who bled

             With such wistful aplomb

             Upon the street that night

             And nowhere a soothing balm,

             Yet, at every pump of blood, that vent

             A bloody mess did he become.

             He walked, with staggered step,

             Within a world of pain,

              And wondered where his ear had gone

                    It had disappeared down the drain,

             When a low voice whispered so,

            ‘Dougie will never hear again.’

                                                

             

             Dear me, the poor man

             Suddenly began to reel,

            And Dougie’s ear had been struck orf

            With the finest burnished steel;

                          And through the red mist,                

            The stump appeared like fresh-cut veal.

            Don’t feel sorry for Dougie       

            For Dougie has been a sinner

            Penance did not abide in him

           And thus his ear became a rat’s dinner,

           A fate he truly deserved,

           The fate of a severed pinna.

So endeth the Ballard of Lugless Douglas