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    The Atavistic Maid
    by Breton Braley

    Listen, Sweetheart, to my plea;
        Cut this highly cultured game.
    All this fine gentility
        Grows to be exceeding tame.
    What I want is low-brow love,
        Heavy, knockdown cave-man stuff;
    I'm no cooing turtle dove;
        Treat me rough, kid; treat me rough!

    Can the soft and weepy sighs,
        Chop the meek and humble pose.
    I'm no cut-glass raffle prize,
        I'm no fragile little rose!
    Grab me with a python grip.
        If I struggle, call the bluff.
    Want my love? Then take the tip,
        Treat me rough, kid; treat me rough!

    I don't want my hand caressed
        With a nice respectful peck;
    Yank me wildly to your chest;
        If I fight you, break my neck.
    Please don't be a gentle dub,
        Spilling la-de-dah-ish guff,
    Woo and win me with a club.
        Treat me rough, kid; treat me rough!

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