Like all children, you were a de facto Member of the Flat Earth Society, Believing nothing but what you could see Or touch or whatever sense led act to Fruition: mudpies made summer beneath A tree whose measured shade endowed decrees Between light and dark: such hierarchies Gave you implicit, a sophistic faith-- (Fallacious fellowship!)" Youth's adherents Ignore the fact that most factions reject Their lyric league (which only fools have stayed Striplings of) and none condone its nonsense: No-one loves that vain solipsistic sect You'd never join, whose dues you've always paid.