"In God We Trust"
Life in the outsourced United States, these downsized days
Of iffy, breathtakingly anxiety-riddled double-dip recession,
When even our most cherished constitutionally guaranteed birthrights —
Air conditioning, three-car garages, triple bacon-cheeseburgers —
Are threatened with imminent extinction (though we don't know it),
Is a highly peculiar simulacrum of a traveling freak show
Hosted by Circus McGurkus and Colonel Larson E. Whipsnade.
We seemingly never decode "banks too big to fail"
As "Wall Street's greedy grifters donating subprime loans
To the asses' and pachyderms' most prestigious patrician politicians,
So they might keep their four homes, five Humvees, six hookers,
In Albany, Sacramento, Georgetown, the Cayman Islands,"
Instead landslide-elect Tea Party Sarah Palins and Glenn Becks,
As our next führer and duce — amen, alas, and alackaday.
Tonight, in my made-in-the-Dominican Republic designer jeans,
I sit in the Silvio Berlusconi Tuscan Grille Ristorante
(Franchised out of a 150-story Dubai high-rise owned by Hezbollah),
With a bottomless made-in-Mexico glass of made-in-China wine,
Dining on a made-in-Haiti plate of farm-raised-in-Malaysia skate,
And toast my great good fortune, in having made it in the States,
Where "Something for Nothing" is today's "In God We Trust."
08/31/10 - (3)
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