One genealogy begets another:
One from the father, one from the mother.
But wait just a minute—you plum forgot
The step-genealogies those might've begot:
One for step brother, and half-sister two,
And odd cousin Guthrie (they say you once knew);
There's one for your shirt-tail relations in Reading,
And another for the grandma that you met at your wedding.
I'm sure when configured, compiled, and collated,
You'll find that you're probably somehow related
To moguls in mansions and prisonors in pillory,
Osamas, Obamas, girls Valley and Hillary,
And skeletons hanging 'round, many years closeted,
That have now, on your family tree, been deposited.
My advice? Take your tree, every last long-lost splinter,
And chop it all up—let it warm you all winter.