Stick that pick into thick rocks, but for survivin’
you’ll need shirt and trousers for this work outside.
’port’ shorts and sandals, colleagues will snort, you’re deranged,
so armor yourself with hat with brim that’s wide.

(Keep that dig-holes gang on your side)

And your ensemble must not incidental.
Sheesh! you’ll not seek what you need at a K-Mart!
Besides, you might be toiling in Niger
where it’s boiling, not too breezy.
You’ll be knocking on rocks, under duress
Dress for success; be smart—don’t mess with looking “smart.”

You might find fossilized bark, perhaps a lark.

Fossiling togs to withstand the bite of a snake
that you might encounter, smiting rocks apart. . .
heavy cotton that breathes ’neath sun’s firepower
If your arm’s bare—sunscreen on there.
Don’t be like Franco* and get it severed:
go into caverns carefully. And check the chart!

And have a flashlight if you’re frightened of the dark.
But even before on the mission you embark,
please take very seriously my duds remark:
before you start digging in a national park,
Get frocked for rocks; don not togs with some hot trademark.