After
Banksters
Create
Disasters,
Economies
Froze for
Government
Hackers,
Inside
Jobs and
Killing
Labor,
Moving
Nefarious
Oligarch
Papers,
Quickly
Rehearse and
Sing
Tax cuts,
Under
Vacuous
Wages shut,
Xenophobes
Yearn for
Zealous crimes.
This is the economy
in twenty-six lines.
Once upon a campaign dreary,
I sat recluse, but ever leery
Of town hall rallies of Perry, Cain and more;
I heard the teapots whistle,
Like thorn bushes in the thistle,
Was this really their epistle?
Could it be? I did implore.
Right-wing radio played Glenn Beck
Like Lonesome Rhodes with red-neck
Who failed to inform, but only infect
The Teabag toads with fear-like spores;
Why do they always grab their guns?
Howl at the moon and call it the sun?
Loading bullets for the next election?
What do they have in store?
The FOX airheads began to fill
Balloonatics and corporate shills;
The way brain cells are killed
By Bill and Glenn and FOX Noise whores?
“We’re not here for the facts!
We just want to ax the tax!
For billionaires with deeper tracks
So people sink in quick sand tours.
Bachmann, Palin in overdrive
Their corporate monkeys fly the skies
And scare us with their wicked lies
Like “Social Security’s deathbed door!”
But why not just raise the tax
On the very rich to ax the gap?
Let’s get on the fiscal map
So debts and deficits cannot soar!
And let’s protect our Medicare
From profiteers who want to scare
That this entitlement will not be there
Due to fiscal weight as healthcare soars.
So tax the rich! That is the answer!
So parasites of corporate cancer
Can no longer be legal dancers
For billions in accounts offshore!
Let’s beat these Ravers EVERMORE!!
Deep inside the Reagan Library,
Teabaggers simmer in droves;
They’re boiling mad and whistling steam;
They want new levels of low.
Two hundred thirty-four dead inmates
Received Rick Perry’s wrath;
A round of applause, like a round of ammo,
More whistles and evil laughs.
He’s tough on crime, and tough on taxes;
It’s tough love for all we know,
But don’t be Black in the “Lone Star State”
You’ll get a new level of low.
“Do you have trouble sleeping at night?”
Asks Chris Wallace like a crow;
“Not at all,” says the socio-Perry
“I’m digging new levels of low.”
There’s no innocence abroad or in Texas
That tainted evidence will show;
Until Rick meets his new tour guide,
And Virgil shows new levels of low.
(A Republic of China Service announcement
from Wen Jiaboa to his Republican minions in the USA)
Wen Jiaboa
Is here and now,
With China’s parental plan;
“We no longer
have a hunger
For debts where U.S stands.”
“We’ll now take
Your land and lakes,
And other natural resources;
Let’s give thanks
To Chinese banks,
You gave without ground forces.”
“We’ll take that gift
You no longer miss
Who stands in New York’s harbor;
Her torch went out,
But have no doubt,
Your freedom’s already been bartered.”
“We’ll also take
And liquidate
Your lawmakers who have angina;
They’ll now reside,
Where they can’t hide,
In the People’s Republic of China.
“Collateral pigs
Are what we dig
Like Alexander, Barrasso and Bond;
Your Rand Paul
Will take role call,
As your debts keep approaching dawn.”
“Chambliss, Coburn
Will have their turns,
Seeing Hong Kong and Beijing,
And Corker and Enzi
Will have a frenzy,
When their red phones start to ring.”
“Ensign and Graham
Will love Wuhan,
And DeMint will deLight in Guanzhou,
And Crapo and Cornyn,
May feel a bit foreign;
But who cares if they’re having a cow?”
“Inhofe and Kyl
May be in denial,
When they find out they’ve been Shanghai’d,
While McConnell, McCain
Are happily trained
To always vote “Yes” for Chinese buys.”
“All your other
Republican brothers
Will be happy in our Red dawn,
And we’ll gladly accept
Without any regrets,
The rest of your corporate pawns.”
“Export them now!”
says Wen Jiaboa,
And we’ll trade you Chinese salami;
We have a need
For traitors of greed;
Be happy we’re recalling your commies!!
Economy’s on the chopping block;
The wealthy watch from on high;
Eight years of tax cuts, and two wars,
But we need a shared sacrifice?
NAFTA, GAT, and WTO
Put the middle class in a vice,
Good paying jobs squeezed overseas,
But we need a shared sacrifice.
Banksters mixed bad mortgages
With the good to be sold and spliced,
Instant profits and global losses,
But we need a shared sacrifice.
Tea Party Turds say, “No more taxes!
We’ll freeze spending like polar ice;
We need a balance budget amendment!
We need a shared sacrifice!”
We need massive cuts in Medicare,
Social Security, and Medicaid’s price;
No more equal public campaign funds;
We need a shared sacrifice!
Rich people need more tax breaks
So poor people can scurry like mice,
The cheese crumbs get even smaller
But the rich won’t share their heist!
Welcome to our shared sacrifice…
Four wars and seven tax cuts ago,
a president set sail for high debts;
The waves were big,
So he raised the rigs,
With no direction, and no regrets.
His ship sailed into a perfect storm
Of wars, tax breaks, and deregulation;
Then housing bubble burst,
And homeowners cursed,
And he giggled at the crisis of the nation.
Now a new prez has inherited the ship
And tries to raise the mast higher,
But pirates onboard
Said, “We can’t afford
So we’ll set the ship on fire.”
The president said, “If you light the ship
And we default on the sea of high debts,
We’ll all go down!
We all will drown!!
Children, poor seniors, and vets!!!”
But Pirate Boehner with his dry drunk smile
Said in his life vest and orange wink;
“You should learn
We’ll slash and burn
And then jump as your red ship sinks.”
But then Wall Street brokers boarded the ship
And Boehner’s torch went out for world banks,
“No more pirate fear
Or default this year…
Let these Tea party pirates walk the plank!”
Can concrete shoes make you think abstract?
Do mannequins dream to move?
Does a record player feel in the rut
When its needle’s in the groove?
Do predatory capitalists float like clouds
Above impoverished nations?
And then rain down their slave wages
On workers’ humiliation?
Do you share the thoughts of those
Who strive for equal rights?
Or does consumption consume your day
And infect your dreams at night?
Can the world be unified
Without war for lasting peace?
Or will we become those androids
Who dream of electric sleep?
Obama sits behind his desk
In Armani and Rolex smiles;
Holder holds court documents,
As Edward’s indictment piles.
Where are those toxic mountains
Of dockets of Wall Street crimes?
Wall Street owns the White House;
It’s more than nickels and dimes.
There will be no keystroke banksters
Or Triple A ratings Execs;
To find themselves in criminal trials
For economies that they wrecked.
No Standard, No Poors, No Moody, No Fitch
No Lehmann and his brothers,
No AIG or Goldman Sachs
No jail for economies smothered.
Now McTurtle in the senate
Wants a balanced budget amendment;
But he voted for unlimited war,
Shouldn’t McTurtle be a crime defendant?
Shouldn’t the liars who put us here
In this precarious financial position,
Be the ones who are serving time
For crimes and reckless decisions?
But Obama needs to obey the elite
Of banksters who should take the plunge,
Because two thousand twelve is coming soon,
And his campaign needs the funds.
So keep your eye on Edward’s lies
Or sport scandals or Hollywood deals,
It’s another day in America
And we’re asleep at the steal…
The clouds hung low close to the field
And gave birth to the fog;
No baby showers, no afterglows
No rainbows in the bog.
A step leader tried to organize
Negative ions in the sky,
“Will we strike?” an electron asked;
“Will our numbers let us try?”
“Will we charge and not back down?
Will our charge card credit our dues?
Can we find a meadow tree
And strike the meadow dew?”
Negative ions argued about
The best way to exert their might;
“If we organize and force our will,
Lightning may go and strike!”
“We can stay calm and passive,
And disobey clouds at night;
But if we do nothing at all,
Lightning goes on strike.”
No negative charges or currents
Will bring strobe lights that we like;
No thunder claps or echoed applause;
When lightning goes on strike.
Either way we must address
The contradictions about the strike;
Unless the suns dissolves the cloud
and negative ions take a hike.
A monster stalks the working class;
Like a mobile scarecrow from a farm,
But now he slithers in Washington
To spread his business charm.
“Labor is a commodity
Like corn, beans, and oil…
We need to bury wages deep
Like seeds below the soil.”
This monster gripped his amendment
And railed against Davis Bacon,
“The Feds will not interfere
How much my slaves are makin!’”
“We enter into contracts
With my walking commodities,
Do not try to organize,
Or I’ll take your jobs and leave.”
The monster spreads his viral hate
With balance sheets to count,
And then he goes to church to forget
The Sermon on the Mount.
