Still can’t, can you?

Those who can’t draw, table

Yes, that’s how they’re able

Ever drew a curve, and missed the swerve

Straight lines, baby, they soothe the nerve

Unlike curvatures that don’t seem to end

And most unlikely for its owner to find a friend

A line in a table begins, with twins, to finish

The proud producer who proves that paste is panache

Hey, table makers everywhere, stand be proud

So, art critics didn’t want your zigzagged lines around

You can’t draw moon or sun, face of a daughter or a son

But one table can set in motion everything everywhere that needs done

So, the tables are replicas of each other, taller or shorter

Same table, different data, the smarter the sorter

But look how many circles are unfamiliar, sometimes sillier

And how many tables people look at, the filler or the killer

What can I say? I like tables, doodled them to a kill

With time on my hand, tables were a way its void to fill

Seeing them everywhere, billboards in the air, wish they were more of use

Still want to draw a circle, but I wouldn’t wish on my frenemy that sort of abuse