Fossilitis Ignoratious

If your ego is capacious Or your appetite voracious For a plucky, pertinacious Confidence in cherished creeds, Then your genius, though sagacious, Conjures arguments audacious Never seeing they’re fallacious: Truth be told, you’re in the weeds. Your disease: a contumacious Predilection for tenacious Relics of the late Cretaceous Buried deep within your soul. Now the clash of clues vexatious Shows your self-made strait hellacious; Still your will proves efficacious To maintain your status quo. In the face of facts veracious When your mood is disputatious You remain unfazed, pugnacious, With your slowly dying breed. Your rebuttals wax loquacious To escape the perspicacious But they seem a mite mendacious To the few who pay them heed. Though my grousing is ungracious And my rhyming ostentatious I won’t stoop to be salacious For the horror’s grim and cold: While your heart still soars flirtatious, Charmed by pterosaurs predacious, Laxness leaves your brain crustaceous, Drying, hardening in its mold.