Tuesday, March 12, 2013

The Pub With No Dyke

     I collected this poem in the mid-1970s, its authorship apparently being that prolific producer of ballads, limericks, and jokes: Anonymous. For my readers outside Australia - I know I have a few - I should explain that the title is a parody of Slim Dusty's most famous song, The Pub With No Beer, and a "dyke" is a toilet, or lavatory. For those who speak American, that means the restroom where you don't rest, the bathroom without a bath, or the washroom where you wash only after the event - although my experiences in the U.S. suggest this is a custom honoured as much in the breach as in the observance.
     At any rate, here it is: -

The Pub With No Dyke

I'll tell you a story; it happened to me.
A new pub had opened and the beer flowed free.
I'd had several drinks and was full of mad talk,
When Mother Nature came calling and I went for a walk.

There were blokes going out and blokes coming in,
And the racket they made was a hell of a din.
I spoke to the swaggie we all knew as Ike,
And sadly he told me the pub had no dyke.

So I wandered out back in the chilly night air,
And saw about twenty or more blokes out there.
Some yodelling, some cursing, but say what you like,
They wouldn't be there if the pub had a dyke.

Then I got quite a scared and my heart gave a thump,
I thought Bill the blacksmith was only a stump.
He got up and cursed me and said, "Dirty Dog!
Why don't you go elsewhere to run off your grog?"

It was then the top button came off of my pants,
And they fell down and tripped me in a nest of green ants.
I yahooed and yakkered and boy, did I hike!
I couldn't care less if the pub had no dyke.

I ran back inside over bottles and kegs,
My trousers like hobbles still tripping my legs.
My mates poured some whiskey where my bum it was hot,
And the old spinster barmaid dropped dead on the spot.

Then a big drunken cowboy, eyes bulging like buns,
Said, "I'll fix those ants, boy," and raised a shotgun.
The first shot he fired rang out in the night,
And the sting of the pellets was worse than the bites.

I got such a fright that I ran through the hall,
And jumped on my pushbike, no trousers at all,
And I vowed and I swore as I peddled that bike,
That the next pub I went to really did have a dyke.