Hearken, my dear,
And prepare to hear
The irreverent doings
That were done last year.
On the subject,
No books were written.
For no one was especially out to protect,
Felt important or was smitten.
They thought they knew
What they ought to do,
And he, she, they, and you should do.
I think they’re kind of funny, that way.
What happened?
Some asked, perturbed.
Curiosities sharpened,
But truly nothing had occurred.
So it’s safe to say
That on this day
Back one year away,
Everyone was bored to death.
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