Like all children, you were a de facto <br />Member of the Flat Earth Society, <br />Believing nothing but what you could see <br />Or touch or whatever sense led act to <br /> <br />Fruition: mudpies made summer beneath <br />A tree whose measured shade endowed decrees <br />Between light and dark: such hierarchies <br />Gave you implicit, a sophistic faith-- <br /> <br />(Fallacious fellowship!)" <br />Youth's adherents <br />Ignore the fact that most factions reject <br />Their lyric league (which only fools have stayed <br /> <br />Striplings of) and none condone its nonsense: <br />No-one loves that vain solipsistic sect <br />You'd never join, whose dues you've always paid.<br /><br />Bill Knott<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-unsubscriber/
