Grimace Of The Rabbit Man [Today's News Poem by Khakjaan Wessington, August 31, 2012]
All life's pursuit and flights of fancy
Rabbit nibblers: ash suits and the nominally red,
Bloodless bowties. Every tooth's surrender,
So take it easy. Don't get angry.
Just calm down, lie down in down
And rodent pellets. Smile because
You can't help but, can't imagine anything
But bites of self, broken jaws, your own
Ashen blood.
"As wealth and income rise to the top, moreover, so does political power. The rich are able to entrench themselves by lowering their taxes, gaining special tax breaks (such as the “carried interest” loophole allowing private equity and hedge fund managers to treat their incomes as capital gains), and ensuring a steady flow of corporate welfare to their businesses (special breaks for oil and gas, big agriculture, big insurance, Big Pharma, and, of course, Wall Street)."
- By Robert Reich, ROBERTREICH.org
http://robertreich.org/post/30553661179
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Showing posts with label the price of prey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the price of prey. Show all posts
Friday, August 31, 2012
Grimace Of The Rabbit Man [Today's News Poem by Khakjaan Wessington, August 31, 2012]
Labels:
August 31 2012,
Beast of Pray,
Nature's beautiful predators,
Predator,
Rodent man,
the price of prey
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Guinea Pig's Lament [Today's News Poem, September 19, 2010]
Guinea Pig's Lament [Today's News Poem, September 19, 2010]
You put up my photo on Craigslist:
A cowlick of calico squealing
That swallowed his teeth for the portrait;
For handfuls of breakfast and cuddles.
I trusted you more than my instincts
Or mother—your hands were beloved:
They fed me. I only bit carrots—
And never in anger. Imagine
It for me; my pall made of paper,
My graveyard, a serpent: a master
Of supper. I died for your shortage...
You couldn't imagine the motives
Respectable people with manners
Conceal on the phone or with handshakes;
And what they would kill for the sake of
A snake in a cage by the dishes.
“But when Mr. Ryan, 22, was admitted to the trial in May, he was assigned by a computer lottery to what is known as the control arm. Instead of the pills, he was to get infusions of the chemotherapy drug that has been the notoriously ineffective recourse in treating melanoma for 30 years.”
– Amy Harmon, The New York Times, September 18, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/19/health/research/19trial.html
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You put up my photo on Craigslist:
A cowlick of calico squealing
That swallowed his teeth for the portrait;
For handfuls of breakfast and cuddles.
I trusted you more than my instincts
Or mother—your hands were beloved:
They fed me. I only bit carrots—
And never in anger. Imagine
It for me; my pall made of paper,
My graveyard, a serpent: a master
Of supper. I died for your shortage...
You couldn't imagine the motives
Respectable people with manners
Conceal on the phone or with handshakes;
And what they would kill for the sake of
A snake in a cage by the dishes.
“But when Mr. Ryan, 22, was admitted to the trial in May, he was assigned by a computer lottery to what is known as the control arm. Instead of the pills, he was to get infusions of the chemotherapy drug that has been the notoriously ineffective recourse in treating melanoma for 30 years.”
– Amy Harmon, The New York Times, September 18, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/19/health/research/19trial.html
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