William Henry Bartlett, English
Elmer Was Having a Hard Time Concentrating on His Shot Thanks To His Serious Case of Jock Itch. With Both, He Was Trying Desperately Not To Scratch, 1881
Oil on canvas
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/// A (stark) Game of Billiards is played
in a room that has far too much shade.
Some bets have been made
but the shooter’s afraid
that he’ll win but won’t ever be paid.
/// They had started this game late last night
with one single dim overhead light.
It took hours to play;
darkness got in their way.
The pool hall and pool players— not bright.
/// Joe thinks silently, chalking his cue.
At this game and its rules he is new.
He had seen, to his shock: “It’s
not pool, there are no pockets!
If I welsh on my bets, will he sue?”
/// At a small table, drinking his dinner,
sits a man who will challenge the winner.
To avoid any tussles,
he keeps mum that he hustles,
and pretends he’s a drunken beginner.
/// Then the kibbitzer spoke up to say,
“We would all be world famous today
if we’d pooled all our pay,
gone to France where we’d play
pool all night in Van Gogh’s ‘Night Café’.”
/// Elmer’s jock itch had caused him to snatch
defeat from a victorious match.
Had he played pocket pool
then his family jewel
is the one ball he needed to scratch.