Whiskey Or Cyanide Poem by Charles Hancock

He sat on the end of the pier
Waiting on the sun to disappear
It was tough for him to decide
Whiskey or cyanide

Then he stood up to holler
Another day, another dollar
At two passing cargo ships
Navigating via Chinese microchips

Containers of imported mercantile
CEOs, politicians, and their guile
Produce rampant consumer greed
But American goods is what we need

Made in Bangladesh or Mexico
Continue to be our national woe
The short-attention-span shopper
Making the working man a pauper

The neighbor lost his job...too bad
Got a great deal on a new iPad
He stared at the crumpled pink slip
Shed a tear and took a big sip