Lucre is lettuce some damn loot
Come carrion, come bush meat
It's just wild water you did drink
And for its prey, it just had to lark
Priceless as they do come to type
They get gathered and put to pipe
I might utterly be acting the pious
For i hadn't chanced to be dubious
If I had ever tasted ten dollar dish
I would then hate to miss the relish
But a doctor as he puts thee to jail
Consumes everything only to fail
And part of it swallowed by thugs
Now in casket wrapped in rugs
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Good poem. Love it. Thanks for sharing.