Prelude

Because the rhymes I make for raiment
Fail to avail its meed of payment,
I fain must make my well-worn tweeds
Suffice me for tomorrow's needs--
Until my verse the public reads.

I used to go to Savile Row,
But now their prices are so high,
With royalties at all time low,
Because my books few want to buy . . .
No, I don't blame them, but that's why.

Well, anyway I'd rather fare
In tattered rags and ring my chimes
Than strut around in wealthy wear.
--So in these tough and trying times
Let me flaunt like defiant flags
The jubilation of my RAGS.