April 24, 2020: 26 million Americans have been forcibly disemployed- ok sure, including me- in the last 30 days or so, as our government SPECTACULARLY failed us. HOORAY! Since we had “employer based health plans”, we’ll also mostly be without “health insurance” in times of pandemic. Brilliant.
It’s been awesome to see: The people in government who don’t believe in government are living their best lives by certainly proving that they won’t participate in civilization. The better news is, wealth for Amerikan billionaires has increased by 10 % on average over the same time period.
The capitalist snowball is officially now an avalanche of astounding proportions, and it doesn’t look good for the humble hamlet at the base of the hill. Everything that happens now in society, innovation, profit, war, health advance, disease, HAS TO equate to exponential profits for the wealthiest as the first priority. The banks have made 10 billion bucks in processing fees on the small business loans that almost no small businesses have seen.
To celebrate this important Amerikan success story, I have yet another poem in my Piggleyland Cabaret cycle:
The Billionaire Shuffle
Is there anything as worthless as a billionaire
As they hunker in their bunkers
Breathing bottled air?
Is there anything surprising in their lack of care
As they snuffle down their truffles
And decline to share?
The things we can’t afford because of billionaires
Are subway fare, and polar bears,
And it’s tiresome to hear them once again declare
They need bailing, ’cause they’re failing
In their easy chairs
I don’t find this game appealing
I don’t trust the cards they’re dealing
The only rule is that they win
They’re shuffling the cards again:
Doin’ the Billionaire Shuffle
I regret we haven’t budgeted for billionaires
From the front lines and the coal mines
Where the pantry’s bare
And we’ve been rendered sick and tired in disrepair
As they feed upon their greed
On plates of laissez faire
We can’t breathe in this atmosphere of billionaires
All the loaning and the boning
Of the debonaire
We must strip them to their fancy silky underwear,
From their tuxes, and their bucks, as
They play solitaire.
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~ Love, Nitro
Well written, expressing very true, unfortunate state of affairs! I think in addition to your own talents, you’ve inherited some of Grandpa Bill’s writing skills! I remember that he always wrote letters to us and his grandchildren, as I’m sure you’re aware. Hope your family is OK during this lockdown.
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Aw, thanks! Grandpa Bill’s poetry, and his letters to the Editor of the Detroit Free Press, were certainly prime inspiration. We’re all fine here, with best wishes for your posse over there on the West Coast of MI!