A VACANT LOT

Too many knew that statue's empty claim,
A President, most prescient of shared guilt,
An axis turning on historic shame,
But cut through - bombast bronze, just jerry built!
Yet, was a worthy landmark, near and far.
As in the oaths of wee and hollow men -
'Dubyas, PMs' - initials blank these are,
New graven on false monuments again.
They thought the gawping crowd could not care less
For folk that bore civility's first days,
Nor any think of lasting worth, unless
The idols that they dumbly seek to raise.
Tasteless, in keeping monumentally,
Their rank and emptiness for all to see.

                    (Apologies to Hugh MacDiarmid)