You relished the erudite word
And spread pomp and circumstance
Like mayonnaise on a white bread tuna sandwich.
The 20s don't roar with you, they chime,
Fly in on harps, glisten like ice sculptures.
I convey your muse, Miss Wanton Liberty, via the Integral
to be framed, sent to finishing school, corseted in rhyme.
Can they taste and yell "More champagne!",
If the bottle label is missing?