(for Cynthia Sprowell)
“A dull boom came from her right. A thin pillar of smoke rose in the distance from the direction of where the bunker was.
“Baker had succeeded in her mission….”
The dull boom sounded, and the thin smoke rose.
The game in which the whole world was at stake
Resolved itself – with help from you. And those
Who fell along the troubled way could take
Delight, O Baker, in the way you bake,
Armed against every form of servitude.
Elites had tried to have and eat their cake.
You slapped them soundly. Hey, there: don’t be rude!
I do not claim that angel choirs were cued—
But John and I, imbibing, gave a cheer.
World domination? Lofty attitude
Regarding our ill fortune with a sneer?
All those vile schemes were now mere history.
I knew you’d get the bastards back for me.