Sour Sonnets of a Sorehead & Other Songs of the Street/Sorehead Sonnet Two
Sorehead Sonnet Two
Two months ago the union called a strike,
It's seemed like seven Sundays every week;
I'm wise it's up to me to beat a sneak,
Pack up what little goods is mine an' hike;
Just blow the burg an' hit the goodbye pike
An' be a bloomin' rustic, so to speak.
I ust to think a Reuben wuz a freak,
But now he looks the wisest sort of Mike.
This bein' "unemployed" is on the blink,
An' eatin's too infrequent when you're broke.
An' huntin' fer a place where I kin sleep
Has kep' me wide awake an' on the think.
My eyes is bad, so I don't see the joke,
Wherefore, I have made up me mind to creep.