Archive
09/15/08 - (2)
Chicken Salad
Where's the honesty, the legitimacy, the human decency Of our vaunted financial institutions, Their morals, ethics, scruples, principles, values?
Don't ask me, chump! I'd be the last to give you a straight answer; Indeed, I'd give you a bum steer, steer it up your bum,
Sucker you into my favorite shell-game ruse — That belief in things opaque, unseen Is as close as you can possibly come to seeing God
In visions of bleeding Jesus wearing Elvis jumpsuits And images of the Virgin Mary shimmering in oil spills Or seared into oozing grilled-cheese sandwiches.
But if you persist in pressing me for honest answers To your reasonable, highly justified queries, As to the whereabouts of fundamental virtues,
I'll do my damnedest to present you with a plausible truth... Right up till the eleventh hour, When I'll buy your sorry ass, at a fire-sale bargain,
Bundle it, along with those of other rubes, Into unsecured derivatives even God can't account for. Here it is: you can make chicken salad out of chicken shit.
09/15/08 - (2)
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