The discovery
of antiscience, heralded
in drips and drabs
by drips and drab-dressed
gents and lads, just to impress
the ladies' nads,
did not impress them. Not a whit
No hair out-of-place, not-
one-bit more measurably,
favorably disposed. Or - a lass!
Displayed. Nope
sorry, nope.
Not so much
as a change in clothes.
The antiscience blokes
arose
and walked out of the hall. Protest
was not their style, or policy - but
make-and-take exception was, and
guess what they did then.
Protest! Dear me. Good job
guys! You sure
proved you,
cuz.
Just cuz. Because you had to, praps?
There's no way else
to cop the Nobel Prize, or
make equivalence
in some great ringing-bells
award you fake, inaugurate,
and proud-announce, and give,
and take, and covet. Handle
all around, and - prize,
for what it is you-say about,
and claim
as-good,
but false.
Such prize does not mean
what you claim
you think
it was.
It takes more balls
and fewer brains than anyone
should (publicly) admit
to halve by measured use
of un- and mis- and ab-
plus this
and that.
There's something loose
way up inside that place
where you don't mind
but call it one,
the pressure builds
just one toot more
before you splat.
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