We children of the 50s chanted claims
espousing beauty, freedom, equity.
To overturn stale culture were our aims,
destroy the old and dance in amity.
So revolution was the path we blazed,
we thought, our numbers large, our energy
unending. Even now I am amazed
at how we withered in maturity.

Today we witness one who sits on high
and decimates traditional with haste,
dismantles, closes, hamstrings, sends to die
the ethos, without thoughtfulness or taste.
A master of destruction’s been set free,
to gild us on a path toward entropy.