O Tom I want one too- A Monticello of my own! My own mountain with a view Of seven thousand acres grown To husbandry: hand-planted trees, A mini-palace I've designed, And me, imbibing by degrees My French philosophies and wines. King Tom! From such altitude Of spirit even I can see Ideals as real, a liberal dude Discoursing on democracy While tended by a hundred slaves. Tear it down Tom! This nest This artifact. the red-brick theme Park of sweet reason's not your best. Sure as history eats our dreams It's movement, not the monument, That made you presidential, leaped The Alleghenies at your gate, sent Outriders of entelechy deep Into the soul's Louisiana, freed Mad Lewis, Clark, Bird Woman on West-running rivers toward a sea You've never seen. Be vast and rude Be Wild Tom who elemental, Cries Include! Include! To stretch us to a continental Scale. Emerge into the Green Man, Founding Father, O my American.