A trifle poor in the past today I'm utterly broke whatever I do doesn't work every road is a treadmill my legs quake in the mud my stomach aches on festival days since I lost that calico cat my pot is surrounded by rats | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BLUEFLAGS by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS FOUR-LEAF CLOVER by ELLA (RHOADS) HIGGINSON MAN FRAIL AND GOD ETERNAL by ISAAC WATTS A GIRL'S SONG ON HER LOVER, PAIDIN RUADH by CHARLES BEWLEY CHARITY by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD THE BAD LANDS by CHARLES BADGER CLARK JR. |