📆

I’m all over
This year
Like a bad rash
Like loose cash
Like road kill
Like old trash
No ill will
No fake tear
Shall lurk here
Nor linger
This rover
Has no fear
So bring on
The next year
I’m ready, I’ll
Rise or crash
Brush skies
Or clover
I’ll dart
And I’ll dash
As I steer fate
With my
Little finger