A plot that does anything but plods
A pleasure for my cones and rods
Ian McShane, a national treasure
A befuddling, breakneck pleasure
I present to you "American Gods"
Find another place
To take your schematic disgrace
Plus your excuses of bullshit
And every last culture fit
Ego, thy name is Adam Gase
"House of Cards," just horrific TV
A show that already seemed to be
Jumping its own shark
Then decided on a lark
To have an awful finale
The D was a terror as of old
Even when the offense got cold
As Parkey lined up to kick
All of Chicago just about got sick
An upright ended it all, as was foretold
A raconteur at the heart
Music made up just a part
To know him made you try
To earn respect in his eye
A legacy undiminished by his depart
Last time ...
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