CABL Forum - They say Santa Claus' and Evil Doers could be akin

'Twas the night before an inauguration when all through the white house,
Not a pundit was stirring,
Not even a cabinet louse.

The brown shirts stuffed with 100's hung from the gutters with care,
In hopes that Saint george,
Would soon be in jail

The country's children were corralled,
In all their despair,
While visions of stimulus packages were being counted for their fair share.

And mommas' bound by an evangelical commander-of-grief,
And I in my fight-or-flight jacket had just settled down from a 2008 recap,
To see what it reaped.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
We sprang from our cognitive dissonance,
To see what was the matter!

Away from the window the Constitution flew with a flash,
Tore open the shutters,
To see martial law hovering above the big crash!

The sun-a-setting on a new-fallen tow,
Gave lackluster appearance to an "American Dream",
Future generations would never know.

When what to my wondering eyes would appear,
Another puppet,
Reminding me of the eight previous years.

With greedy capitalist drivers,
So lively and quick,
I new in a moment it must be a trick.

More rapid than the eagle descends from a course they did frame,
As he whistled and shouted,
A tune just the same.

"Now shop-away! Dash-away reagan and nixon,
I'm unfettered I'm cupid,
Now ponder this Blitz-Zen!"

To the bottom of the shaft and up against a brick wall,
"Now crash away for some to late to stash away,
The Hammer to You All!"

As dry heaves of change lay before you,
A foreboding depression and willful lies,
If they find you an obstacle they'll rendition you to the skies.

So up from the echoing halls of congress the courser they grew,
With a sleigh full of toys,
For the corporations too.

Again from their twilight we heard from the roof,
Their pruning and pawning,
From each one aloof.

As we drew from our hips quickly turning around,
Down the stove pipe prosperity came a crashing,
With leaps and bounds.

He was all dressed in sheep clothing from his head to his jack-boots,
And his clothes all tarnished with ashes,
From minions that layed mute.

Rest assurd the bundle of corporate toys will again be flung on our backs,
He looked as a mirrored peddler,
Just opening a new sack of crap.

His eyes shown like costume jewelry one wonders how they will ferry,
He and bush wouldn't make a pimple,
On Washington's bark made of cherry.

His droll little mouth drawn up like an animated Clutch Cargo's,
His bearded shims,
Made you feel like you'd just been snowed.

A stump of a pipe dream held tight between his teeth,
The gulf of many,
He surely will reek.

He had broad aspects and a belly full of hope,
That shook from hillary's cackling,
How absurd and demote.

He spoke not of his word but went straight to his corporate works,
Again and again they'll fill their stockings,
All heads turned with a jerk.

Laying his finger aside his nose,
And giving a nod,
Up the ladder once again the ceo's arose.

As he sprang from his slayed to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew from a crown,
They once worshiped made of thistle.

But I heard him explain away as an era was driven from sight,
"F*ck you All!
And to All a Good Night!"

INSTALLATION

CONSTRUCTION / TECH

OFFICE / OTHER

They say Santa Claus' and Evil Doers could be akin