It is usefull to be intolerant, for those glutton;
who can eat wholesale the entire menu, seldom
fare well in their lives. Better to love few futons,
than burn out many cathedrals! Absolutists screw tons;
in atheism ends their way, who absolve nihil, whom
in the darkness, nothing seems great again. O Come
Ye Superman, Jean D'Arc, make Mills Steward buttons!
Be a wolf, and whore well with the few, edging shotguns;
the call for the quickening, then seeing the farmers eyes.
Is it your shot and your time, or just the picture for fun;
then you looked at grandfathers chimney and dreamt stunned.
Reluctant in going down, the new suns of our time, biased
in their ivory towers, while not impregnated impregnable, hazed;
those lazy Rapuntzel, who married the wicked witch, not the Don!
To the gods, then you feel spirited and something to say;
let the plebs spit on your holy of holies and touch thy elf!
To the ground, then you're mental, why dost those pray;
who at every chance, cast rocks on David, holding the tray
of the altars horns, whenever a tyrant takes seat. Not wealth
nor fortune propells those to do a single adventure, stealth
of any peril or doom -- still they'd collect the parables mayday!
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