America the Beautiful Revisited
America, while breathing gaseous skies,
Converts her amber waves of grain to gold.
She logs her mountains’ purple majesty
And risks her fruited plains in futures sold.
How could the selfless pilgrims have foreseen
The fiscal dust their sturdy feet would raise?
When did their quest for freedom of belief
Become obsessed with how much interest pays?
The early heroes’ hearts were filled with fire,
Replaced of late by nuclear doomsday fear.
When greed fails in these days to get its way,
Then hired generals flatten all that’s dear.
Those patriot dreamers failed to forecast years
Of lotteries and bets on football games,
Nor could they know what poverty and fears
Would lurk in cities bearing brave men’s names.
America! My poor America!
Thy crown of brotherhood is hard to see.
Thy god is Gold; thy goodness yields to law,
And
lawyers fight from fee to shining fee.
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