Greed Screed

Hard to see through the lies,
Through the strands of wool these guys
continue to pull over our eyes.
But through the stench, the reek,
If you sneak a peek,
You see they're far too busy stuffing their maws
To worry about obeying laws,
Or give a shit about starting wars,
Or give a thought to being kind.
They're far too busy spending time
Diverting our minds,
Robbing us blind,
Getting hoarse from screaming mine, mine.
These guys are deft, leave nothing left,
Their greed too gargantuan to even offend,
Their blatant theft - as they intend -
Far too big to comprehend.
Digging wounds too deep to mend,
Just how far do they want us to bend?

You can't say "the rich," cause that's taboo -
Like calling someone a bitch … or a Commie in '52.
What are we, notionless?
They want our mass movement motionless, call us a pack of Reds,
Try to make a socialist sound like a crack head.
Getting wined and dined,
Getting their sub prime mortgages signed,
Gorging on the melon, throwing us the rind

Eating fois gras, drinking vintage pinot,
thinking: what do we know?
We may be slow, but we're picking up the flow of the dough.
And we know. We know: we're playing in a rigged casino.

Corporate country gone totally imperious
Putting aside jobs, health,
You think we're delirious
enough to believe the trickle down theory of wealth??
Let the market run itself? You serious?

The SEC got some mean habits,
Putting Bre'r Fox in charge of rabbits,
Be like this current infection
With fixed elections.
Or Big Bad Wolf running Pig Protection.
Millions of folks on the dole, but
The banks still high rolling,
Billions in bonuses,
Swiss accounts still swollen,
With the trillions these thieves have stolen.
But you over-reached, For thee
The bell is tollin'
You may be smart but all you can see
Is the inside of your colon.

With degrees from Harvard or Yale,
You thought your brains couldn't possibly fail,
Still think it's crass to talk about class,
But even a brilliant brain gets stale,
if its up your ass.

Big banks covering their tracks, distorting facts,
Paying off their congressional hacks,
Sucking bucks from folks living in shacks.
Stuffing profits into Gold man sacks,

Wall Street's hard of hearing. Got a tin ear, and no chops,
Cashiers make what? $30,000 tops?
While the banks rake it in, pulling out all the stops,
Making money on every bubble, even after it pops,
Dealing derivatives, and credit default swaps??
Where are the cops? Where are the cops?

Greed Screed

New Poems

From By Heart

Some Earlier Poems

Audio Recordings