by Jerome Betts
Where are the beards of ancient might
From deepest sable to snow-white?
So many egos were once bolstered
By jawlines copiously upholstered.
Fine-spun, or of a rope-like strength,
Neat, shaggy, flowing, navel-length,
The great and good could earn top dollars
With beavers fit for ayatollahs.
Charles Darwin, Alfred Tennyson,
Had growths that seemed to run and run,
While Dr Grace’s chest of matting
Lent awesome force to England’s batting.
One fact that few can dare deny −
Barefaced still collocates with lie.
Would voters find less cause for doubting
Elected members who keep sprouting?
But, sadly, no. Ms. Brex-Crex-Crex
May change her mind, but not her sex
And what the POTUS spreads among us
Can’t be disguised by facial fungus.