Fisticuffs
Fisticuffs
Some reporters say I fight yellow,
but I don't need to use the dirty
tricks. I don't rabbit punch a man's
manhood like Mexican Pete or try
to gouge an eye like Klondike.
That kind of fighting isn't fighting.
It's like trying to sell a man with no
teeth a gum shield. Instead, I wait
for the punch, move to one side,
then punch back: a left hook directly
to the temple. I named that back
punch Clara. No man has ever
met my Clara & was still standing
to talk about it. The woman herself
quit me, carried the gift jewels
& my roll with her. I took a train
all the way to St. Louis to get her
back just so she could take the rest
of my money & leave again. Clara's
the reason I don't deal with colored
women any more. I never had
a colored girl that didn't two-time me.
©Originally appeared in Crab Orchard Review