Chapter 11
It’s trickle down economics at the bureau - in time it reaches the ground floor -
But for now there’s a raging gorilla upstairs spitting ammo at his most trusted corps,
While his friends Merrill and Morgan stare through the window – glass barely condensed -
Out in the cold wondering if they’ll be next to go; thrown out, replaced and dispensed,
Book burning commenced.
Back at the office now it’s call after call, and downstairs, upstairs, everywhere no-one trades-
The proles want heads to roll, at least a pair to fall, and how much can happen in two days?
Outside lights flash, display the date and glitter, sparkle, shine, only artificially alive;
Inside only decline, approaching deadline, and boxes and boxes of files in an archive,
Shredding repo 105.
No blaming Dick, fooled by the British – they won’t treat your cancer from this toxicity,
Your assets, no, they want no part of it; and he sinks to his knees, unable to up the ante,
While the unnamed clear all their desks bare, write new resumes and invest new suits.
And he wonders how they dare; they saved the bear and now the hand abruptly executes,
Taxpayers keep their tributes.
The street party confetti is paper shredded, limp and loose and meaningless now,
No-one knows where it’s headed, and still those gathered at the threshold couldn’t say how-
Office lights out, headlights down a dark road; the unemployed tailored in Hugo Boss so neatly,
One after one, each after the other they followed, leaving the past to let it be,
And next day, bail AIG.
[Lehman Brothers]
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