Jack Derider
A word ain’t worth a hill of beans.
Grafitti for computer screens,
a word can’t tell you what it means
(the thing it’s in existence for).
Each age forms self-defining views,
infatuations and taboos,
its West Points and its Waterloos,
but balks at what the butler saw.
The less that’s said, the sooner mended.
Nothing’s ever open-ended.
Some people want to be offended,
and so it shall be, ever more.
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