First world of the United Century—
Gullet of enthusiasm, for free.
Buddhist callers on line four, please! Holy
Nineteen sixty three, and counting (slowly)!
What we see as Reality is just
Nineteenth Century wisdom gone to rust,
Where lightning and butter are separate,
And Thomas Gainsborough gets intimate.
With the structure of an old architect,
Gustave Caillebotte’s Cathedral transept
Shows us the Land of the Free, without are—
A New Century of insane blare.
I’ll try to wrap this up now. It’s Easter,
And we’ve everyone except a Priest here.
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