Sonnet 73 quack said the fish

a pause to clean the glass, like it matters

there is nothing in life that will succeed

watching the world collapse as it shatters

no wealth or fame I didn’t even breed

get sick have tests cut you open survive

and why am I chosen to have enough

while better folks die I can stay alive

have a roof and a meal and too much stuff

but there will be no lover or award

can no longer swim as the waters rise

there is no relief miss boring is bored

the strength is leaving my sagging old thighs

my art was always close but no cigar

let those more talented stock the bazaar