Roll stones down on our head!
You squat old pyramid,
Your last good avalanche
Was long since slid.
Your top has sunk too low,
Your base has spread too wide,
For you to roll one stone
Down if you tried.
But even at the word
A pebble hit the roof,
Another shot through glass
Demanding proof.
Before their panic hands
Were fighting for the latch,
The mud came in one cold
Unleavened batch.
And none was left to prate
Of an old mountain’s case
That still took from its top
To broaden its base.