Archive
11/18/08 - (3)
Horseshit
Those with the big money, from the heady days Of adjustable-rate-mortgage-backed swap-derivative prestidigitation, Are still OK, still in high clover, still grooving,
While the rest of us chumps, who were cajoled, cuckolded, Into dumping our pension funds, our 401(k)s, our stocks, Into Icelandic banks offering glaciated woolly mammoths,
For ten cents on the dollar's worth of bone, hair, and tusk, No matter that when these "frozen" assets thawed, They wouldn't revive, perform live, in our zoos...
We gullible jerkwater rubes, with our boobs in a ringer, Are now drowning in our tin cups, Lamenting our giddy decisions to let money gurus pull our triggers,
Invest in opaque, esoteric, hybrid financial products Not even Wall Street's Houdinis could possibly understand, Let alone unbundle, escape from, and label "TOXIC."
No question, Fitzgerald's rich are different from you and me. They're thriving yet, in the Hamptons and on Nob Hill (The NetJets set flying higher than the national debt),
While we poor fucks in St. Louis, Ashtabula, Tucumcari Are suffering, day by night, sleeping in our "wheels," Keeping our hitchhiking thumbs at the ready (up our butts),
Just in case we run out of the precious resource That powers our "mobile homes" and reeling economy: 93-octane premium unleaded horseshit.
11/18/08 - (3)
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