The Craven (long version)

Once upon a March so dreary,
The High Court pondered weak and weary,
about the future health and fate of many,
but had no dog within this hunt,
knowing they would never suffer, never suffer any healthcare want.
Swayed by ideology, and nothing more.

The telltale heart that echoed loud,
that began the stirrings in the crowd,
came not from under any floor,
but beat from the chest of an infamous boor,
the meaning true both new and old,
the timing of this event to many, particularly cold.
Darkness there, and nothing more.

A young man’s death grants him life,
after a lifetime of sowing none but strife,
other priorities were always present,
to prevent him from serving in jungle or once fertile crescent,
feeding off the blood of lost youth,
once just metaphor, now it’s truth.
Two other lives lost, forevermore.

A better example of the void,
between those of means and those devoid,
cannot easily come to mind,
who even now breathes last behind some door,
with grieving families tears flowing behind some door,
because of ‘other priorities’ will cease to be, forevermore.
trust the system, nevermore.

What timing is this that points so boldly,
as a right wing Court considers coldly,
whether to strip away any safety net,
from those with fewer means, whose fate by economics is so cruelly set,
Can you not help us or do more,
The Republican stand on this sad score,
Market forces, and nothing more.

The black suited pundits and lawyers came a knocking,
knocking on the High Court’s door,
armed with briefs payed by other fattened suits,
and with the payors deep in cahoots,
to defeat the reforms was their charge,
with success would their golden parachutes enlarge.
And many in need will be without,
saddled with debt or to do without,
Power, greed, and nothing more.

Many asked with pleading eyes,
of future plans could the conservatives us apprise,
will something better come our way,
if you are able this chamber to sway,
If the black hearts these reforms defeat,
can we something from you better beg and entreat,
Quote the Craven, nevermore.

To the judges, Listen to us and no other,
we care not for any brother,
no matter what we say while on bent knee,
Absent money we’re deaf to your plea,
Defeat this program but offer no other,
Take what’s ours but loathe to any other,
say the craven, nevermore.

Millions lack basic care, uninvited through this chamber door,
Only suits and shills may speak their mind,
Only payors and politicians may raise their voices,
here behind these gilded doors,
The rank and file must suffer and die in silence, far away from these hallowed doors,
Nameless here, forevermore.

‘Start a healthcare savings account behind some banker’s door’,
crows some black suit gathered round the court,
None with knowledge of the perversity of this is allowed to retort,
Save what money beyond my door?
you who aren’t one check from ruin judge us, judge us behind this door,
The judges are unmoved,
what we say is law, there’s nothing more.

And while this forgone result plays out in three acts behind these doors,
Do the pundits sow lies and falsehoods about issues like contraception,
addling weak minds and altering perception,
justifying the the harm wrought behind these doors,
the loss of hope behind a million other doors,
aid to those in need, nevermore.

Yours and my fate decided, decided for us behind those doors,
Choose to eat or take that medicine,
find those boot straps and yank hard,
They so removed from your daily plight, huddle and snipe behind these doors,
will any justice yet be meted out beyond these chamber doors,
pray the craven, nevermore.

Set for life in black robes behind these doors,
The best Court that ‘speech’ can buy,
Never to be touched, never to be shaken,
by what decisions come down, down behind these chamber doors,
Their agenda, and none other, set behind these 12 foot doors,
When can justice be forthcoming,
quote the craven, nevermore.

If money is speech, then poverty is silence,
Until hope dies or enough are incited to violence,
and come streaming, ever streaming through this chamber door,
Justice with the luxury to remain blind, blind behind this chamber door,
Until some future mob storms the courtroom,
and tells the craven, nevermore

1 comment:

pboyfloyd said...

Very well done.