The scientists in every clime
Exhaust much energy and time–
They also pour my cash in it–
This search that waxes passionate
For facts. They leave no stone unturned
While knowledge shall remain unlearned.
Six days each week, all day, all night,
They labor to bring truth to light.
They catalog each bug and bird;
They know how paint had best be stirred;
They’ve charted my insides but slick;
They know what makes an atom tick;
They know a rocket to the moon
Is possible, and just how soon.
They’re great on causes and effects–
They know what weather happens next;
They know what makes remote stars burn;
They know when comets will return;
TheyI understand light rays and heat;
And, if we’d live, what we should eat;
What makes a bridge stand stress and strain;
How park a car; how make it rain;
It’s hard to ask a question that
They haven’t answered snug and pat,
But this one has their knowledge beat:
How make a small boy wipe his feet?
by Ray Romine Friday, January 23, 1953
