The Rise Of The Administraitor

(From Waterloo To Watergate)

The Moose charges,
Crashing its great antlers
In warning before
Burying the hunter
In the bog.

Not as quick
Are the rats,
Biting through the crib;
Insignificant,
But festering
To infection
And death in pus.

The great beasts
Are gone
And the marshes
Dammed for mosquito control;
Yet the rats keep pace
With man so well,
Swelling with our debris.

The heroes are gone
With the kings they defied,
The sword and the fetter
Have gone-- thanks be !
But men still drown
Beneath lily plants,
Beating at the croaking frogs,
The waltzing mice,
Leaders and lemmings
That put men there.