Am I a worry-wort?
What’s a “wort” pray tell?
Hey, buddy, have a snort!
Probably, I’m a worry-“wart.”
You get warts when your skin cells
go haywire. “Wort,”
on the other hand, is pure maltose
oozings from your kettle and your coil.
Hey, buddy, have a snort!—
as we lie here in this house Jack built.
Jack had jugs to sell,
distilled from sour-mash wort
(the gear takes up half Jack’s car-port).
I worry plenty, but I worry well.
The proof’s in the retort
that I’m the rat that ate the malt,
always dodging the fell
feline menace. “Wort” is non-count.
I am worry-wort!