I nearly saw a three-toed sloth I really hoped to see one But as I crept up on the beast He sped off like a demon
How did this lazy fellow do it? My legs were gelled, encased in suet Insensate speed was needed now That wily sloth could sprint, and how!
I called upon my last reserves To stay with him through streams and curves He would not give this race a rest Just like those hounds of Budapest
His limbs a blur, his eyes agleam His ears pressed back, his goggles seem To mask his real intent, his dream To master speed and be the Dean of hustle.
DOI
10.20411/pai.v4i2.296
About the Author
Michael Lederman is a physician scientist in Cleveland, Ohio. His granddaughter loves sloths. Dr.
Kuritzkes is a physician scientist in Boston, Massachusetts. He hopes his granddaughter will grow
to appreciate sloths.
Footnotes
Submitted May 24, 2019 | Accepted August 20, 2019 | Published September 5, 2019