Being for sale, human
Tame, quiet, and broken
Cleansed of question (take a bow!)
Thought, opinion or riposte
Deaf and mute, though
In full order and up to cost
Hoarse voice from somewhere, urging to shun:
“Where are the schools that you have waited
for your children to have, that have never come?”
Ladies and gents, here’s one more
Unscathed by politics or concern
Never unionized, never in a bookstore
No left leanings or something that sleazy
Just a real workhorse
Always busy, busy, busy
Yet a voice croaking unstable:
“Where are the institutions
to care for the sick and disabled?”
There’ll be plenty more
Where these came from
See them pushing to fore
In their shiny new chrome
Properly formatted, duly standardized
And, best of all, ultra coolly stylized
Still that voice goes on, with rasping and droning drear:
“Your tears in this country have lasted for generations. Give me
the chance to dry the eyes of those who still weep here.”*
Packed close, but isolated
Hatred festering and rising
Wealth, place or mate
All meant to be divisive
What good this opulence?
What we lack is intelligence
The market crowd, unwilling to hear
Pulls closer, awed and brutish
Slides into form, ready for the shear
Any hope of a break now proven foolish
Were we to spark only a little wisdom
How easy subverting the whole wicked system
*) Quotes are from Huey Long, governor of Louisiana assassinated in 1935.
