Follow the Bouncing Molecule
As darkling evening fell upon
The age of swamp and glyptodon,
A stegosaur its anguish boomed
And was in silent silt entombed.
The ancient swamp became a bay
Whose crofters fashioned bricks of hay
Combined with sand and local clay
Dug up from where the creatures lay.
A tidy village built of these
Endured for several centuries
Till came a city brave and tall
And paved them over one and all.
Progress called as progress must.
The bricks were found and ground to dust,
Then tossed into the bay thus powdered,
Oyster-eaten, caught, and chowdered.
The dinosaurs are dead, but fool!
You can’t destroy a molecule,
And that is why, the waiters say,
Your soup tastes kinda weird today.