Twisting and spinning their deceptive gyres;
so busy with their little webs;
The members do not hear the despised membership;
The social contract falls apart;
Democracy cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the land,
The corporate hounds let slip, and everywhere
The cries of the innocent are drowned
By the monstrous media.
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity;
And the predator’s ferocious joy.
In an ecstasy of excess.
Surely some revelation is at hand?
Thatcher’s Second Coming ?
Or silly Rapacious Reagan?
Hayek at the very least.
The Second Coming!
Hardly are those words out
When a hideous image appears.
It’s not The New Jerusalem;
This wasteland of insatiable greed,
This bleak landscape of Consumer Land;
Where entitled Philistines rule in the people’s name.
Where Barons and Magnates of every kind;
bind all others in irredeemable debt.
These corrupt Servants of Mammon;
Who know the price of everything,
And the value of nothing.
Summon up their Beast.
This rough Beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Canberra to be reborn.
With a pig’s body and the head of a man;
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
It rolls its great thighs, and does its sums;
Puffs a fat cigar, self satisfied self server.
Dances a jig of unrestrained delight;
And pronounces our doom.
Has The Beast employed a J curve,
To shape a prosperous future?
Or used a Hockey stick,
To beat the people down?
While all about it wheel afrighted birds,
Their nests destroyed, all security gone;
Screaming to no avail.
The Beast is deaf.
The Beast’s Budget breaks open
Our fragile cracked democracy.
What has he released?
Spiderlings spill out; revealing Brute Utopia.
The Beast is but its midwife
And now bloated Corpocracy unfolds itself;
Many eyed, many limbed, black web spinner;
The insatiable predator that eats its young
That in the end consumes itself.
Paralyzed democracy convulses
The Common Wealth is no more.
The Brute Utopia triumphant
With apologies to Yates, Wilde et a