The Three Orders
Tusk-tusk, Tuscan,
You’re just a stripped-down Doric,
Sat squat upon your plinth –
You don’t fool me.
And don’t posit Composite,
You ain’t so long historic –
You’re just Corinthian
That’s running-free.
If Bassae’s still Ionic,
(And it is),
And so are Ammonites –
Then isn’t it moronic
To insist that Serlio is right ?
To favour Romans over Greeks,
And not allow some playful tweaks,
Patrolling boarders of the orders
Just to keep them pure from mutant freaks.
The Tuscans and the Composites
Were born in the Renaissance,
When Italians made counterfeits
To stand-up in response.
Well fair enough, by why stop there ?
Now that we have this president,
Let’s have a hundred orders blare
To prop-up ev’ry pediment.
Rhyming Couplets 