Neanderthals roam the halls of the Towers of Power, in white
shirts and ties, rubbing their eyes and telling lies about carrying
their balls in bushel baskets. Money bleeds through these corridors
like blood through an open wound. Pompous impostors pose proudly,
their prodigious personages. Hand shaking, picture taking, promise-breaking
fakes stake their claims in the politics game. Ethically destitute
three-piece suits walk with morally underfed recruits, paying
their dues and IOU's while crying those same ol' gimmie-some greenback
blues. Insatiable, saturated legislators linger long, happily
harping the same old song. Big, bold butts bringing big bucks
wheel the real deals and party heartily. Boot-licking and butt-kicking
go hand in hand behind large, locked lacquered doors. Long-winded
ludicrous legislators lap up liberal libations at lunch with lobbyists.
Shrunken heads with big mouths and deep pockets parlay party power-plays
with short-sighted, back-biting, in-fighting, tight white troglodytes.
A fistful of dreams and a wallet full of authority goes a long
way in America. Goes even farther in Washington.
Downstairs, shaved simian computer pilots, parked on their paralyzed
posteriors, push ponderous piles of paper. Drones on phones hone
their excuses and abuses all the live-long day. Prohibited from
pondering or wandering, they are the wastepaper wonders of the
western world. These silly, slavering civil servant sycophants
bare their buttered behinds and bow obediently to their bosses.
These are the support troops for the beltway bandits.
The Squares really get around in the Oval Office. The Suits with
their knives and pies, belch the biggest alibis. They eat the
pie and then the pan; and then they eat the baker man. These suits
pretend representation for ample compensation.
© Martin Scherer. Webmaster Martin Scherer. Last update 9/98. E-mail: mscherer@tesserak.net