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The Independent Man


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.

Written by Gwendolyn Brooks (1917-2000)

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