I’ve wasted all the time I can
And bungled plans, where I knew how
Obscured what blazes I could see
Put off the pathway, here and now

I asked a frog if he could swim
And housed him in a tackle box
And threw it down the rabbit hole
To save him hopping to the docks

I measured every feathered switch
Which runs anfractuous through the ferns
To figure how the crow might fly
If flying gave its stomach churns.

I’ve given up, where time allowed
And gotten lost ere I was prone
To seed my hopes in listlessness
So not confused by something known

At dinner in his den that night
I wondered where the fox did run
He grinned, and said, “You ought to know
When not to dash a joke for fun.”