Oh give unto me, you whom I address, any words of wisdom
set, written, or etched in stone which you may wish
to unsettle, rewrite, render wretched, or otherwise remove.
For I am a motivated maven, an obliging other, an active ally.

I shall throw them with verve to the hardest of floors
and take to them repeatedly the point of my nastiest pickaxe.
I shall bring upon them unforgivingly all of the might and
weight of my sturdy, trustworthy, home-proven sledgehammers.

Shards that may survive to be deposited in a gargantuan grinder
that will be run and spun by me until they rumble stumble crumble
and remain wholly incapable of a mumble or even a mild mention.
Rubble debris splinters shavings fragments flakes: none have a chance.

The dust and powder left in the mixer will suffer a totalizing fixer: 
kneaded without mercy into a molten mud they will
be personally dropped down a dark bottomless pit of a well
of non-well-wishers to be utterly and totally contradicted.

Count on me, oh colleagues young and old alike, for I guarantee it.
I can deliver on this attractive promise of deverbative destruction.
                        

Back in the day, some uppers in the Catholic Church
deemed that it would be a nice on-going gesture
toward Him who made the Ultimate Sacrifice
for the faithful to abstain from meat on Fridays.
Many years later, the vegetarian vector of PETA
turned the tables to advocate for Meatless Mondays.
Well, soon said a lean literarily-leaning lapsed lad,
how about some historically ironic Fishless Fridays?
Or, for good, if not necessarily godly, measure—
and continuing in the all-encompassing alliterative
vein of individual and collective improvement—
counter-fast-food promos on Taco-free Tuesdays?
communion-related anti-alcohol Non-Wine Wednesdays?
plus a related stale-ale week-end of Sans-Suds Saturdays?
some antidote-to-luxury-grub No-Thermidor Thursdays?
and, to end on a wholly appropriate extra holy daily note,
a wanton-wiener Un-Sausage or solely Soup-and-Salad or 
Self-Serving Soul-Food Sacrifice Sunday? Yes, what about?
Your semi-semi-monthly agenda is replete, your plate is full.