The Independent Man by Gwendolyn Brooks
Now who could take you off to tiny life In one room or in two rooms or in three And cork you smartly, like the flask of wine You are? Not any woman. Not a wife. You'd let her twirl you, give her a good glee Showing your leaping ruby to a friend. Though twirling would be meek. Since not a cork Could you allow, for being made so free.
A woman would be wise to think it well If once a week you only rang the bell.
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