To: The People of the United States, January 31, 2022
Nemesis
By Mark Albertson
* * * *
That city that be,
Called Washington, D.C.,
Is a nest where thieves fester,
So they can pester,
The unrequited mass, whose suffrage
They mock and despise.
For it is from their ilk,
The masses they bilk,
As their ill-gotten gains do rise.
For such an outrage,
Unfolding on stage,
Fuels a dark age,
Of displeasure and rage,
To which there is need,
In the face of such greed,
A messiah or sage,
To ring promise of relief,
Dawning of a new age.
It is the first rule of law,
From which usurpers withdraw,
Since no parliament, Congress or diet can check,
For representative government is that target for wreck.
For what Americans believe in no longer exists,
The looting continues, the corporatists persist
For many of the masses are seemingly dumb,
Their failure to climb out from under the thumb.
As America sinks deeper, into convulsion,
Its allies demur, recoil in revulsion.
For that once shining city, high upon the hill,
A now tarnished burg, excitement now still,
For that desire for change, which the masses due lack,
Being politically ill, minus that will, from which they draw back.
The Arsenal of Democracy, that once saved the world,
Now an Arsenal of Autocracy, a peril to the world.
Its tinsled aristocrats, miserly plutocrats, upper-crust kleptocrats,
All clothed in the garb of Republicans and Democrats.
For once a Slaveocracy, now a Thieveocracy; of
Managed Democracy, for the Aristocracy.
Attention can bring such reality into view,
Of Making Society Work for the Few.
For such a progression is not really new,
Ongoing for centuries,
History brings same into view.
Yet the masses are sulky and sullen and glum.
As they put up with the sufferable and, remain mum.
But as more understand that they have been took,
His thinning wallet, her empty pocket book,
The eventual coalescing of those who need more, the Middle Class, Working
Class, downtrodden and Poor,
The comeuppance of guillotine, pitchforks, in store. . .
Brings to the streets those rivers of blood,
As the masses in frenzy, demand ever more. . .
