by John Lee Clark
Why is my bladder growing
badder? Banks
love to give me blanks.
I do not wish to bend
to blend in, yet I try not to
clash with cash.
To flail is to fail.
I cannot flee a fee,
my feet are not fleet enough
and flight would be too much
of a fight.
But if a goat can gloat
and each place have its pace,
why should not I not be plain
without pain?
I should plant and never pant
nor pay to play.
I should save myself
from being a slave.
The best way to sow
is slow.
— John Lee Clark