Snookered

The Bulletin. 20 December, 1923

He snookered me! Had he not been so smart 
I should have won for sure the tournament;
His evil craft upset my apple-cart, 
All round appreciative chuckles went.
I might have stood it if he’d pinched my tart; 
But this, I frankly tell you, I resent.
Just when within my grasp was victory, 
Just when uncatchable I seemed to be, 
He snookered me!

He left me—d—n him!—underneath the wall 
And in the pocket’s crook. With maniac
Eyes I surveyed my plight. There wasn’t a ball 
Offering the barest chance except the black,
It seemed to me. My soul was filled with gall 
Round cushions four (at least) I needs must smack 
To score a hit and dodge the penalty.
Who could so tight a place as this foresee?
He’d snookered me.

He’d queered my pitch. Mayhap some super-man, 
Some Gray or Walter Lindrum with a cue, 
Might have frustrated his insidious plan, 
But it was more, alas! than I could do.
I struck. My ball around the table ran 
And finally collided with the blue.
He smiled; the benches voiced amusement free.
I was “the dripping roast” in simile.
He snookered me!

Had it been billiards—beaten fair and square 
I wouldn’t have grudged it to my conqueror;
No hardness I'd have cherished, I declare, 
Had I encountered him in love or war
And come off second-best. But still I swear
When I recall it, even as I swore
When it occurred. I was ahead by three, 
And suddenly, to put me up a tree, 
He snookered me!

N.S.W.                                      T. THE R.