Skunk's Poetry Lament

If I had a pound
For every pound I’ve earned
From my poetry,
I’d be a very poor poet indeed.
So thank goodness
Nobody has ever offered me
Such a great deal.

If I had a leg
For every award I’ve won
For my poetry,
I wouldn’t have a leg to stand on.
I would have to walk on my hands,
Which is not that easy unless you were
Raised in a circus.

If I had a pisspot
For every time I’ve been told
Your poetry changed my life,
I wouldn’t have a pot to piss in.
I would have to go behind a bush.
It wouldn’t suit somebody
Of my delicate constitution.

If I had a pie
For every beaten meter
And rancid rhyme,
I’d be porky as a pig,
So when you meet me
In the street, just say
“Hi, fatty-burger.”