Burst the lock,
release the chain,
we ask for different
but get the same—
save (sell) our souls
in forward exchange.
Our customary
currency:
owe the Reserve, owe
the Chinese,
bail out you, bail
out me,
come one, come all,
handouts are “free”!
We’ll see who’ll hold
the master key
come the year 20-16
and be the next
to blame the wreck
on the last jalopy
presidency.
© 2014 Jennifer
Wagner
For Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.
Michael (Grapeling) has provided a list of 10 words for us in which to
craft a poem. I used 5 of the 10 he offered.
Also for Poets United Midweek Motif: The Key
and the Poetry Pantry
US Debt Clock: 17 Trillion and Counting