From yonder Holland, 'twas birthed, a term so grand,
Boss, though humble, its reach did expand.
To politics, to roguery, to the redacted verse,
In Springsteen's name, its fame did burst.

In Jersey Shore's sandy embrace did he dwell,
Springsteen, our bard, his tale I foretell.
At seventy-four, he rocks the celestial dome,
Yet, my heart yearns for him, the scruff-clad beach gnome.

From India's heart, echoes a conflict old,
Between the Sikhs, and Modi's fold.
In the wake of a martyr, the plea arose,
For a homeland, a haven, to quell the woes.

by Conchobar mac Dubhthach

a centaur