Fuck the bronze ceiling.
Statues of humans are worthless.
People are too complex to encapsulate in metal.
Too much is ignored in the making.
A golden calf is better than what we embrace.

Ye Mighty need to relearn that works of mortals
are mortal as us and our hubris.
The fossils of the past show us that truth is left behind.
Gender is like feathers left to the imagination,
Slight imprints in the sediment of time.

Anything built to be static or immutable is dross.
The futility of attempting to outrun entropy,
Instead of flowing and changing alongside,
Meanings alter and shift, glinting red in eternity.
Ever the Bard reimagined.

layered cities serve as better legacies.
They are an ironic monument to the transient
Quaint expressions of mortality clawing for dominance.
Becoming the sands of time we tread upon,
Without respect or deference to the work done before.

My words I share, and the lessons I teach are enough.