It wouldn’t take me long to build
A monument—to stuff, then gild
A cassowary or a grub,
To stain a fence and plant a shrub,
Install umbrellas all around,
Stick Latin mottoes in the ground,
And plat the place with a snazzy name.
Of course you would have died of shame.
Much better to lie in the dark,
Pretending night is a private park,
Charming the mob away, who knew
Nothing of me and less of you.
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