You Don't Know Jack
by Kari Mullen-McLaughlin
Jack sprat, Jack-be-nimble
Can you balance on a thimble?
If you shared a pound of flesh
Would you then begin afresh?
Think you spry or think you thin
It will not matter, you won’t win.
Jack-in the box is poised to bounce
The eager jester aims to pounce
Jump back and spin, pick up speed
But Ball & Jacks will pay no heed
Scattered at the head of stairs
These knucklebones will find you there.
Oh you may think Jack a regular schmoe
A nice old man like your Uncle Joe
I don’t want us to get off track
The truth is plain,
You don’t know JACK.
Spring-heeled Jack, that bat-winged imp
With claws of sharpened metal- upon you crimp
Eyes aflame yet cold as death
It takes away your very breath
And as you squirm he’ll tumble and trip
because of your bumble, down you slip.
Stingy Jack fooled the devil for a drink
now he wanders night black-as-ink
hollow turnip in his rotting claw
only one conclusion will you draw
flickering with will-o-the wisp
this Jack-O’Lantern seeks a human crisp.
What’s that you say? I’ve got it down?
Jack’s just like a friendly clown...
I’m going to try another tack
See, truth be told,
You don’t know JACK.
On a night dark and rainy you pull onto the shoulder
The wind blows and you think: “could it get any colder?”
The tire is flat and you head to the back
Who are you looking for but old trusty Jack?
Placed in position now he won’t crank
He creaks with laughter at his evil prank.
Jack-of–all-trades has a broad resume
Once he begins - you dearly will pay
tinkering and rigging is his bit of fun
Though lacking in skills, he is still master of one
A quick fix now and he seems such a shoe-in
But away he scampers and leaves rack ‘n ruin.
He hides his identity as a Jack-tar or John Doe
What can I say- you know how this will go...
I hope someone out there is keeping track
The jury is in:
You don’t know JACK.
He is always there, sharing a laugh
A knave in the deck, a ship’s flag on a staff
He sits in a corner eating some pie
Sucking his thumb and wishing you’d die
Yet he climbs beanstalks to challenge a giant
Can you imagine a man much more pliant?
He morphs into Jack-fruit, Jack-pine, and Jack-fish
Then frosts up your windowpane with one icy swish
Jack-in-the-Pulpit likes to eat gnats and induces sterility
How is that for a dose of hostility?
It doesn’t really matter how I unpack it.
It’s getting cold, you should put on a Jack-et
You may think him inferior or small
But that just wouldn’t be true at all!
As a Jack-pit or Jack-plug, Jack-shaft, or Jack-engine
He may be not worth even a mention
Jill would say otherwise though he cracked his head open
And a Jackass he isn’t, she can’t help from hopin’.
All work and no play makes him quite dull
But he doesn’t mind, he’ll still axe your skull
The tale has unfolded and there’s no going back
The fact still remains,
You don’t know JACK.