[FOsen]

Song of the Des-pots

The morning square resounds with shouts and shots,
And at the Potter’s, in their quiet spots,
The large, old earthen vessels shake. One says,
“There ain't nobody here, but us des . . pots.”

The next one leans against its mate and cries, “Behold!
Once I was sturdy and I brimmed with gold.
My assets froze, now I’m a hollow shell.”
“Please prop us up,” more cry. “We, too, feel cold.”

Another twits them, “Show some grit today!
The sun will show us in our fine array.
Our juice still keeps the world well-oiled.” One frets,
“The light may also show our feet of clay.”

More tremble, but a cracked one heeds the call.
“I’ll be a bulwark and support us all.
Our foes are kids on pills and Nescafe.”
“Look out!” Each presses hard, and down they fall.

Frank