Aspirations Applications Poem by mike ruthenbeck

Slipping and sliding sardonically down
This melody’s staccato precision
Harmony hopscotch without proper nouns
Negates the former capital vision.
Participating in traffic organs
Seems more natural than communications
With the Bilderbergs’ or J.P. Morgans’
Generations of administrations.
Singing alone, in these ‘lectric suburbs
Of political bankers in cahoots,
Their spectral fingers reach in our cupboards
And our minds; we pay them for what pollutes
Our thinking; slowly morphing into scum.
Method de-evolving into madness
How oft, I wonder, what have we become?
Money making monkeys filled with sadness
Ever climbing ladders with a gladness
Causing method changes rife with badness.

You want me to aspire for the top? !
To whittle existence into a point
That highlights the local human cash crop
Into corporate shares that disappoint
None of my rich new friends here on Wall Street.
This is something that I refuse to do.
The ladder top needs an ejection seat
That people ought to go to if untrue
Or malicious behaviors persisting
In political and Wall Street circles-
Whom against the PEOPLE are resisting-
While acting as though, in their commercials
That we’re at the top of their agenda
That the smallest man is of great import.
But in downtown’s richest hacienda
They cavort, extort, then distort and deport.
Trusting the men with all of the power
Is like toasting your bread in the shower.