I met a poster from an antique land who said

"A vast dismembered arm of stone lies in the desert.

Near it, on the sand

Half sunken, a shattered dong lay

Whose hilarious dimensions, and proclivity to stand, tell that it's sculptor well the zeitgeist read

Which yet survives, etched on these solid things

The hand that mocked them, and the part that bred; and on the pedestal, these words appear:

My name is Ozymandias, king of kings; Look on my jerk-off motion, ye Mighty, and despair!"

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,

The dumb and awful takes stretch far away