White Lines

John was painting white lines down the middle of the road The lines extended rapidly but gradually slowed The dotted line he'd painted was so accurately spaced But then his boss said, “Sorry John, you’ll have to be replaced. “I’m giving you your notice, John, your work rate’s going down, This morning you got started and you reached the end of town, After lunch you only painted thirty seven feet And now it seems you’re really not much further up the street.” John said, “Look I’m sorry boss, I am doing my best, I didn’t know that I would face a time and motion test, My line’s still getting longer, can’t you see how far I’ve got? But every time I need the paint I’m further from the pot!”