I have written, and write, verses on different subjects,including politics. Some are satiric and some, I hope, amusing. Feel free to comment.

February 25, 2010

Masters No More? or, What Would Karl Make of It?

This was written when the meltdown began and I think it is still relevant.

Of the Universe each one was a Master
and scorned the few who hinted at approaching disaster.
The market they considered their very own toy
dismissive of what happened to Sherman McCoy.

So we watched as Wall Street went right on sinking
and wondered just what George W. was thinking.
It was he who led the call for multi-millionaires to pay less tax
and for regulators to get off their backs.

Then to the forefront came ambivalent John McCain
whose twists and turns would shame any Windy City weather vane.
When he said the economy was fine he was put on the spot
so he quickly reversed himself and said it was not.

He then demanded “those responsible” be given the push
especially the ones who are pals of Bush.
Meanwhile, Pistol Packin’ Mama Sarah continues to proclaim
that tax-cuts for the very wealthy must stay the same.

When asked how he would the mess arrange
Obama said needed was immediate change.
Would it not have been just terrific,
if he had come up with something a bit more specific?

John finds time to tell us ad infinitum about being a war hero
but not to say why he chose a running mate whose I.Q. is zero.
He should be wary that she does not cook his goose
by absent-mindedly mistaking him for a moose.

She wants to emulate Cheney, the guy she hopes to follow,
who shot his orange-coated friend as he lay in a hollow.
So John, do be mindful of your every “p” and your every “q”
or you might find yourself being blasted out of view.

As Palin continued to spew forth more and more inanities
the bonfire was consuming the Masters’ vanities.
The flames could not be extinguished with fire-fighting foam
while McCain was bewilderedly warbling “Show Me the Way to Go Home”.

Those who caused the meltdown were not asked to sell their shirts,
but some were forced to get rid of, or at least to cover, their shorts.
When they counted their assets, liquid and otherwise,
their consternation they could not disguise.

What was to become of them, was their anguished cry,
on what or on whom could they rely?
Not to worry, they were told, the taxpayers would pick up the bill
so they could go back to their watering hole and their favourite swill.

The champions of free markets, and also laissez-faire,
assured them they could keep right on with never a care.
Those who had always warned about the evils of rationalizing,
had suddenly discovered the virtues of nationalizing.

As investment banks vanished from sight,
McCain agreed that putting the screw on taxpayers was obviously right.
If anyone should ever demand that John make amends
a good beginning would be for him to stop calling us all “my friends”.

The Decider said into the economy he would pump 700 billion,
terrified to utter the dreaded word trillion.
As the problem is a severe lack of cash
can it be possible he has ready access to a Saudi sheik’s stash?

Perhaps he has learned to use a conjuring trick,
or maybe he will borrow it from his Svengali named Dick?
After all, he is the one who is about to end his political career
as the world’s most notorious war profiteer.

Meanwhile the ex-C.E.Os including Prince, O’Neal and Thain,
who left with golden handshakes had no cause to complain.
May one ask whether, as at the bar sipping Dom Perignon they stood,
they were still chanting their sacred mantra “Greed is Good”?

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