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About This Poem
No Win
My tennis court sits
at the back of my plot;
I want to be good,
so play quite a lot.
The net I’ve repaired,
with string and a knot.
I’ve painted the lines.
(Last year I forgot.)
I mow off the grass
and sweep up the grot;
then carefully smooth
a troublesome spot.
I practice at dusk,
I practice at dawn;
I play every day
right here on my lawn.
I volley and smash,
I serve with top spin.
It's oh, such a shame,
I just cannot win!
~
For Joe Flach's 'I Just Can't Win' Contest
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