Oh Jennifer, when I first heard your voice,
(the whinnied chortle of a mad auntie)
I knew that you had stood and looked to see,
(Just like a child, just like me) the choice
That every warrior makes with victory
In hand--the new direction which ensues
From bloody birth of culture--ones and twos
Of nature (here, look, come close) she and he;
But now it seems you've cut the cord--it's gone--
You've given up what love you had of man,
(The heart only forgives because it can)
And seek instead to pile screed upon
The boys who stayed and call your bluff.
Oh Jennifer, is PC cant enough?
