My friends and I sat drinking beer
to weigh up about my bride;
“Wed one from the countryside –
voluptuous and nubile”

So wed I did such an endowed one,
with conjecture, but spirit high,
And learnt from that portentous, fateful day
the thrust of the term, ‘terrorize’

My days were, O! So clearly,
plain black, and at times, a dull white,
for the bad days and the good days,
a huddle of zebra stripes

But, just to clear the air a bit,
my life had colour too,
She’d thrash me often, lavishly –
black, red, and blue

My friends, when they witnessed this,
chose simply to vamoose,
For they knew that their drunken pointers
had clearly cooked my goose