look linden at what your signature did:
we were but babes waking to the french fry
aroma enriching suburbia
expecting addition of gleam to coasts
instead of a pantheon of ushers
choking poor peasants with sanctimony
and your great-great-grand-commander-in-chief
doesn’t even know the p in corpsman
is from scholastic tradition given
the silent treatment and at that alone
when our crust did not bust from one great groan
tells the tale in which insanity came
on the institutional march to kill
worlds where roses had hummed original
melodies composed at leisure-freely,
or it could be said one built what it built
and another built what it built – thus they
really did build private compositions,
some being female and others were males
astute enough to spend their energies
on the building of brand new melodies
instead of asinine gender studies.
Or so such revolting descendents sought.
Nature has as always something to say.