Listen up you smug stained shit kickers:
It’s time to cleanse your filth spattered hearts,
to throw down your plastic mantras and face the toxic
shock of a fucked up and furious wind. It’s time to rip
off your mug-sucking Ray Bans, expose the shying
bones of your botoxed face and let a primrose sun shine
pale upon your embarrassed gallows. It’s time to hang
shapeless and shame-ravaged shoulders upon the cheap coat
hangers of the future and give thanks that the goddess of
dishonour decrees that hell is too busy to welcome
another batch of bread soldiers
today.
Now turn to page 3 of your cellophane wrapped, predictably
unopened, never-written copy of Banking for Dummies:
Did it never occur to you that somewhere between the
pages and the paradigms, the wages and the warning signs
locked tight within the lid-stuck pickle jars of your mind,
lurked embryonic Siamese, sub-prime, prima-donna
death-bed twins clinging children silly to the formaldehyde
of your demented derivatives; stretching out shrivelled skins
caught basking hot in the sunspots of your
dreams?
You used the fool in all of us to bankroll the world’s future
with all that you learned from the survival habits of red-necked,
system shaped, chip n’ pinned, multi-card churners, rolling and
tumbling in the imaginary hay of their dealing room floors.
Cushioned falls and movie-script switch blade devils flash dance
down amongst the thunder dust and dirt of the credit go-round carousel;
flailing limbs swirl in whirlpools, sucking on the pus of created debt and
destruction - to die in the burnished furnaces of Reno and ignorance.
Did it never occur to you that pulling the rug from under
your own feet is a neat trick born of idiots and fading clowns?
Is it not a fool who banks on the air from every empty pocket
stitched into a bulging wardrobe brim-filled with Emperor’s new clothes?
A fool who feeds cancer with carcinogens and catalysts?
A fool who forgets that chickens who come home to roost
are not southern fried but those that conspire to
straddle two sides of a stone cold suicide? Please drip no tears upon your crocodile-shoes – but walk amongst the watered eyes of religion’s benevolent
pity and the disembowelled stomachs of
piteous, human fear.
Dumb Bankers: I beseech you to cut down your senseless hedges, release your embattled bulls and dancing bears from the pits of your gas filled bellies; I crave that you ring your closing bell for one last time; exchange it at the pawn shop that
hides the chimes of freedom flashing; I beseech you to understand that inside the Gates of Eden there are no kings wearing absurd Armani braces and nonsensical sock suspenders that serve no purpose other than to garland the hard-on of your misguided greed. I beseech you to understand that materialism will never feed the spirit of love and humility that runs amok in the blood of the meek.
I beseech you too to reject the crippling crutch of bullshit bailout
burdens - for it will not be your dynasty that lies buried beneath
the suffocating rubble of world debt mountain.
Dumb Bankers: go now and burrow your way into the disgraceful anals
of man’s historic, weeping wounds. You have blistered our Listerine
smiles with the breath of decomposing dogs and empty stomachs.
How I wait to see you begging on dangerous street corners, shoulder to shoulder
with a trillion sticky eyes stuck proud on the rags of your victims. How I wait to see you rubbing up against the peeling labels of four billion fur tongued vagrants. How I crave to see you suck on the thin soup of penance and redemption.
But I shall bear you no malice, and will gladly drop worthless Greenspan paper into the blackhole of your reality cup. Yes - I shall bear you no malice, for I too am a worthless dumb fuck and now we stand butt naked, as brothers in alms; side by side in the drizzle, we shall lift our resignation voices and sing “A Hard Rain’s a Gonna Fall” to the passers by that ignore us like I always knew they would.
But we’ll know our song well before we start singing.
Author notes
Inspired by Bob Dylan, Marc Creamore, Pat Powers and a vision of tumbleweed rolling down Wall St.
A contest entry
- Because I'm bored and want to give away some points [NOW OPEN TO PW's] by Dovina.
750 points, ended January 3, 32 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - The Great Recession: What's so great about it? by Grozny.
850 points, ended May 17, 13 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - contest for everybody!!! by musiccraze2009.
700 points, ended May 24, 56 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Contest: For Those On My Favorites List by Night Hope.
1200 points, ended November 6, 52 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 34 of 34
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It was a year ago this month you wrote this Kezz and the words are still true as it was one year ago. THANKS AGAIN!
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Well, why don't you just tell us how you really feel about it, Kezz. 
My goodness, what an amazing diatribe to the tenets of economics and to its ultimate failure, as well. Being born and raised in Kansas, I had to chuckle at the idea of tumbleweeds rolling down the overcrowded streets of New York City. Although I think that even tumbleweeds would find it most difficult to sustain themselves there. I'm quite pleased that you spilled your loud, resounding song across the page with such aplomb. Thank you for entering my contest, Scribe. Good luck, Sweetie. 
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very powerful! I loved the for dummies addition to the title. When I read that I had a feeling of what this poem was going to be about and I was right. Everybody has an opinion and I'm too tired to share mine but in parts I completely agree with you. Very interesting way of saying the world is going to hell and we are to blame. Thank you for entering the contest and good luck!
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I will repeat Kezz...this is your finest work dedicated to those who are swimming in debt and at a loss in this economy. Thank you again for bringing this to our attention!
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WOW!!!
I am on my knees and bowing to you! LOL. This is wonderful, absolutely brilliant.
I agree with everything you said here and adore your descriptive, metaphorical style here.
What a rant! I love it!!!
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But I shall bear you no malice, and will gladly drop worthless Greenspan paper into the blackhole of your reality cup. Yes - I shall bear you no malice, for I too am a worthless dumb fuck and now we stand butt naked, as brothers in alms; side by side in the drizzle, we shall lift our resignation voices and sing “A Hard Rain’s a Gonna Fall” to the passers by that ignore us like I always knew they would.
Prophetic.
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LOL Well I went from visions of Posh Spice in the first lines with the botox and ended up just picturing the bankers in all their swill....Loved this C
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Wow! This says it all and says it very well. Thank you
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Very harsh, powerful words. This is a strongly worded rant. Unfortunately, the bastards are still in power and that is not likely to change.
Well done and well written.
Mike
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i was feeling pretty good about myself today. and then i read this from you. i think i shall go home and cover my head and forget that i exist. seriously though, you did a very good job venting in here. thank you for sharing this with me today (i think). viyanna rosemarie
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Very Refreshing!
You did a Great Job, This is a Fun read. I enjoyed it very much. I wonder if they will heed this message?. You wrote it out of boredom you said but it appears to have more forethought. The flow of this write sound like I am reading scripture with God's authority (a sermon even), (But I shall bear you no malice, and will gladly drop worthless Greenspan paper into the blackhole of your reality cup. Yes - I shall bear you no malice,). ha ha, I am loving this. The write is a very prophetic even. I enjoyed your awesome use of metaphors also. Send me your address and I will send you the stamp ha ha ha. Thank you for making my day! The banks are stepping it up a notch closer to the Oil industry in regards to the greed and malice. This is a write I wish I wrote. Have fun!
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What a great commnent - you made MY day! Thanks. E Dog.
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very good
wonderful flow of words, It was a very different poem, But I thought It was very good. It was very a pleasure to read your poem.
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Very amusing, your take and opinion on the bankers.
It was indeed quite a long write. I'll admit that at parts, my interest was lost, but I kept on reading.
thanks for your entry -
Thanks again Kezz. I admire your truth for all of us without one cent. THANK YOU!!
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Wow - quite long but worth the read. Even the comments are worth reading! Keep writing poet.
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This was an excellent write and it had a great flow, keep up the good work!
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Thank you!
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yeah corso is probably masterbating in his grave.
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When the economy falls, I will be rich.
I'm sure glad all the city-folk will eat each other before they get this far out...
Keep shouting, perhaps they will hear before it's too late.
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My
Barney Frank and the rest of the socialist would be proud. Wall street beware.
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The Denizens
of wall street need to get out and get a damn job. They build, grow, produce nothing. They are fake humans in a fake economy. These parasites buy and sell each bushel of corn ten times before it's even planted, while the farmer can barely cover his taxes.
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Incredible beat with impeccable rhythm. This is a top-notch performance piece for sure. I like the in-your-face, no-holds-barred attitude. It's real and raw and bursting with pure, poetic furor.
And do I detect the minutest bit of derision for modern social structure? It's smooth and cool, dark and cynical, and I absolutely love it.
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much appreciated!
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its good to read poems by people who are living in the real world. you need more than 3 claps for this but thats the real world too. xx
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Damn! That's all I can say I was dumbfounded by the rhetoric it's an awe inspiring write. Hapy trails neighbor
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another inspiring poem ive read today.
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THANK YOU KEZZ! THANK YOU!!! GOD BLESS YOU!!!
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Pat, thank you for your kindness and for the beacon that shines from your reality.
K
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Kezz . . . you have just written one of the most brilliant, eye popping, savage but oh so fucking truthful diatribes I have ever read!!!!!! This howls like Ginsberg, this is Dylan with his Masters Of War, this is so god damn profound and far reaching that I wanna know what you were on when you wrote it. I have never read you so free, the language and imagery screams into my ears, my eyes, my face like a long awaited storm and I will ever be grateful that you wrote it. If I had anything to do with inspiring you to write this piece, then I am humbled . . . May you continue to give free reign to this much needed nuance emanating from your voice . . . please gimme more!!!!!!!
your brother in spirit and vernacular,
Marc
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Marc - thank you. I was high on disgust. K
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You certainly seem to have struck a resonating chord with this one Kezz, I love the responses. This is a masterpiece, like I said before, so keep that pen and mind of yours screaming from society`s obscene balcony . . .
Marc
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Oh my! Quite the raging prophet of doom here! Uber intense and a witches bubbling cauldron of imagery. Different than what I'm used to, but a great read.
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Thank you so much for your recent reads and comments - they are all greatly appeciated.
Love & Peace, K
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