Of Donkeys and Elephants, Part I

The call to order; the chorus now sings Lord of the Flies dressed in his dapper best Dance to the pull of invisible strings Hands of the puppeteer moving the rest See the perverse design of humankind Exploited by those who would rule over us. To our soft underbelly, we are blind. Even the brightest miss the obvious. Every campaigner’s fiat currency By which the masses will be bought and sold: Scratch it, beneath is no substance to see, His debts tendered, payable in fools gold But still the promise, cold unblinking eyes, A righteous pillage, your justified prize. 2/29/16