Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Sub-Prime Poem

Sub-Prime Poem

Sometimes I'm glad I'm not a world bank.
I have run out of chewing gum, but that problem,
I think,
Is fixable.
My daughter's toilet training looked,
For the longest time imaginable,
To be intractable.
But she, now,
Miraculously,
Is dry.
(Most of the time.)
Into every life a little drop of rain must fall
So, when the bank does foreclose
(Which it probably will)
Accept it.
And learn from this experience.
Don't make the same mistake two times in a row.
Next time, be certain,
Really, really certain
To be born rich.