He caulked his skull with bulky words,
His tongue a swirling sword,
His mouth a stormy sea he could not cork.
Both conqueror and conquered world,
He set his sails towards us.
Our inner groans and wails at his approach
Were wind against those sails;
He turned creakingly around
While behind his back blew wild
A hurricane of ridicule:
Our air of so called cool.
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