The poet William Stafford set himself the task of writing a poem a day. When someone asked him what he would do when his poem-of-the-day wasn't very good, he replied "I simply lower my standards." In order to increase output, the bar here is set at a low level - the point of this is to have some fun with current events and politics. I welcome contributions and comments. Now you can also follow Doggerelo on Twitter (@doggerelo). Because of continuing medical problems, I'm no longer able to post a poem-a-day. I'll continue to post poems, but at a reduced frequency, so please stay tuned.

Thursday, December 8, 2011

A Colloquy

We need some jobs, cried ninety-nine.
We're the ones that create them, said the one.
Why don’t you then? asked ninety-nine.
The time’s not right, replied the one.
Why are you waiting? asked ninety-nine.
We need more certainty, declared the one.
And tax breaks, too?  asked ninety-nine.
Well that’d be nice, replied the one.
How ‘bout demand? asked ninety-nine.
Yeah - go out and buy stuff, said the one.
Don’t have the money, said ninety-nine.
Well, we’re doing our part, declared the one.

It’s just not fair, said ninety-nine,
That you’re so rich and we’re so poor.
Some can’t find work anymore.
Some can’t buy food, some’ve lost their home
Some poor kids’ll be skin and bone
While you sit purring like a cat.
Where’s the justice in all that?

That’s just how it is, replied the one
The game of life is zero sum
There’s winners and there’s losers, mate
You might as well accept your fate.

There’s more of us than you, said ninety-nine.
Let's raise taxes on the rich!
We’ve got the vote, let’s use it now
To redistribute wealth somehow.

Good luck with that, declared the one
We’ve bought congress, you see.
They work for us and won’t agree
To endanger the funds that they need.
When all's said and done, it's simply their greed
That makes them so pliable-
They’re deferential, so reliable.
You haven’t got a chance, my friend,
The system’s gamed from start to end.

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