She kept spotted platitudes for pets,
As many people do,
‘Cause they’re easier to keep and feed,
Than ideas of what is true.

She had great multitudes of beasts,
Of every stripe and hue,
There were adages, and quips galore,
As well as maxims blue.

She had proverbs and aphorisms, though pests,
And a bromide or twain,
Even memes and dictums both pithy and witty,
All vacuous and inane.

She was proud of her menagerie,
Though borrowed by the ton,
She showed them off as trophies, though,
She never, herself, caught one.

The poem is inspired by H.L. Mencken:

“The average man never really thinks from end to end of his life. The mental activity of such people is only a mouthing of cliches. What they mistake for thought is simply a repetition of what they have heard. My guess is that well over 80 percent of the human race goes through life without having a single original thought.”

Except that he got the percentage wrong, (it should be more like 99 percent), the quote most exactly describes what passes for libertarian, “thought,” which is totally void of a single original idea. I chose, “Miss Libertarian,” because those who describe themselves as, “feminist,” libertarians are the most prolific regurgitaters of half-baked social and political twaddle.