An obese neighbor with striped politics,
Distressed by socialist taxes spoke out:
“Take the world’s wealth—divide it equally
Among everyone on earth—in five years
That same one percent of us would, again,
Control that same wealth.” Probably, he’s right.
But right’s a complex word. Morality,
Pesky weed, like kudzu, spreads ev’rywhere.
And, despite all plutocratic efforts
Those damn weeds (happily) just won’t succumb.
Self-interest, that humble plant, blossoms
Into greed, distressed by the encroaching
Weeds that limit obscene growth. “Wit and work
Grow my spoils—weedy morals blight my crops.
For what? To save the fools, the indolent?”
This question’s not so simple as it seems.
Listen plutocrats! To exploit your world,
You must first save it, must nurture those fools,
Those indolents—be both right and righteous—
And next, consider: How Much Is Enough?
And thus—both seemly rich and generous,
Embracing karmic virtue—serve to quell
Desp’rate anger, armed, raging to rebel.
Cultivate the weeds; save yourselves from hell.
(1/21/10)