Democracy has nothing left to do,
From high in soaring towers of plate glass,
Concealed by rebar steel and concrete block,
Secured aloft in fortresses of finance;
And looming silently, so to strike awe
In all the beating hearts of passersby,
Of workers and pedestrians who fear,
And citizens who cower under pyres;
And so to thank, just who it is up there,
That scrapes the skies of dark financial Gods,
Just who it is that shakes the hand that beats us,
Democracy has nothing left to do:
But bear the stick and carrot overhead,
And cheer who gets to eat, or turn up dead...
-January,9 2006
David Zvekic
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/font-color-880000-the-invisible-hand-font/
