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The open hand which he extends
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Friday, February 17, 2012

Reality Check

Like mobsters the system
Demands its cut from we
Who go to work and try to earn
A little dignity
Gamblers get their income
For the most part duty free
Workers pay through the nose
Subject to buggery
The increasing tax burden
Falls on those who have the least
While rich guys’ rich accountants
Watch profits untouched increased
A predatory system
As corruption self-policed
Serves to always guarantee
That the customer is fleeced

Now lemme get this straight:
The government invents the money
And pays the Fed to print it
Even though Constitutionally
It’s the system’s job to mint it
Every dollar they invent
Comes with a little fee
To pay it off then becomes
An impossibility

This charge for making money
A gambler’s winning bet
Tax payers are the losers
Drowning in invented debt
Yet we bail out the banksters
Thieves who sunk our ship of state
Loaning us back our own money
Of course at the going rate

So some prefer to bank
With people that they know
Not officious strangers
Who we beg to bestow
The money we give them
To hold in their escrow
So we can give it back
To pay them what we owe
Instead of just keeping the paper
Which seems like the smart thing to do
Give it to a banking ass raper
While watching his profits accrue
He swaps it for interested paper
Or plastic, bid paper adieu
Just save it for the bottom scraper
Wiping the savings onto you
Time for a reality check
Accepting only cash for bail
Broken, trapped within the wreck
Afraid that check is in the mail

The post brings me a refund
Department of treasury
While revenuers are shunned
Money cures what ails me
So’s I takes it to Wells Fargos
Government backed: a hundred grand
Payment extracted through the nose
Refund check within my hand
The oh so happy bankster
A sneer upon her damning gob
Just an economic gangster
A bitch: the right man for the job
“So sorry cannot cash it here”
I asked, “Is this not a bank?”
“It sure is and let’s be clear
If it stinks we made it stank”
“But you gotta give it to us
Give to us your little slip
No account nothing to discuss
Submit to our stewardship”
“Barring that go to Wal Mart
They are known to cash them there
They forgo the none or all part
Why they have so much to share”
Cannot cash this reality check
Guarantor in the tank
Stare at this economic train-wreck
So many victims to thank

From the fish tank at Wells
To the freak show at Wal’s
Fresh released from their cells
Because bad nature calls
Owed, our reason rebels
Owned and held by the balls
Come resounding death knells
As the economy falls
Of course drones at Wal Mart wouldn’t cash it
Claimed it had an expiration date
Honor checks which arrive within hours
Seems I was at least a year too late
If you won’t compete within their system
Treat you as though you’re a reprobate
Toy with you while playing with their paper
Start the match already in checkmate
Plastic/paper delightful for groceries
Anticipating pleasures which await
While wonderful wallowing with weirdies
That paper won’t put food upon my plate
Seen as trash this reality check
Balance books balancing blank
Prop up nonsense with plenty of dreck
As good as money in the bank



© 2012 simmbiosis

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