sonnet #1,661
He's got brawn, the brains are mine, yours beauty,
So we can pull off a cashed out caper,
Mammon take the tax, excise, and duty,
We'll kiss mountainously minted paper.
All you'll need do is talk fairly fruity,
Such home dwellers down to owners taper,
Easing them a mortgage moral duty,
Kids' well being, the social conscience scraper.
Rag the mad bull market, rort the rocket,
Grit your wisdom teeth, and gnash your molars,
Ponzi points in your waist coat fob pocket,
Short those syphilitic scab bipolars.
My brains terminate on timely pension,
Kids, you make the mess through rank dissension.
(Chorus)
o pension
o benefit
o annuity