Here’s the next bit of poetic satire on the state of the world.
I feel like taking requests:
Any topic you would like to see addressed in rhyming verse?
The dispossessed, the rich, the poor
Line up to be anointed by their credit scores!
The living water, giver of life
Drips off your forehead, spills onto your wife,
What number is this, what sacred geometry
Creeps into your being, bringing instant ignominy —
Is this how we define that we’re actually worthy?
Divine pure reflection — yet financially dirty?
Last time I checked, my Source was a profusion
Of heart-centered love! Not some pesky intrusion
Designed to strike fear in the hearts of the striving,
For marble kitchen counters and pimped guzzlers for driving?
Numbers are but symbols, your bankbook, your age
Some snapshot nano-version of a moment, a stage
In your life, ever-changing, how can one possibly capture
Your infinite essence, your freedom, your rapture?
What riches forsworn as you slather and slave so,
In pursuit of the grail, the penultimate FICO?
Here on earth to unravel the mystery rubicle,
I refuse to be defined by an over-caffeinated geek in a cubicle
I will not bow down at the altar of Trans-Union
Nor some twisted dark version of holy communion
What high lord declared thus? Who sanctifies your number?
In response, the masses become dumb and still dumber
Isn’t it time we reveal the true hero
As one who finds peace and contentment in zero?
Dust to dust and ashes to ash
When all is said and done, you will wish you’d paid cash
Or better still, opted to forego altogether
The newest, the biggest, the must-have whatever —
This is off-the-charts ludicrous, sets the masses to shiver,
The only places banks belong…
…are alongside rushing rivers.