Auntie May

No, we shall never live on Thus, we are not crazy Posthumously stated Although, not so lately Words quoted by those Who ignore the past Lines from prose Which ignore final acts “It’s bombardment Contamination Shallow, impromptu Callous and sad” So dismayed Are the critics At what they can’t have Without a spotlight on them Without a solemn reprisal They tediously sip coffee And watch in denial “It will never work, it just mustn’t” “It can’t be done, for it wasn’t” Oh, I’m tired of these children Their fathers and moms I’m sick of this museum Now then, let’s all carry on