Lo, the Poor Hen

Were I a hen

     I would not lay

Another egg,

     Not one, I say.

She gets the blame

     For all that’s bad;

An honest deal

     She has not had.

She gets the blame

     ‘Cause eggs are high;

“She does not lay!”

     They cry and cry.

And now because

     Fowls have arose,

They blame her still,

     And swell her woes.

And now that beef

     Is in the sky

They say it’s ‘cause

     Eggs are so high.

O, what a “plant”

     To come from men!

I’d “cut” it out

     Were I the hen.

April 8, ‘10