The troglodytes, from up on high,
prepare to divvy up the pie
and not a bit surprisingly they take
the lion's share, and leave but crumbs
for all the workers, dads and moms,
and wisely counsel thus— "Let them eat cake!"
From trickle-down, there's no reprieve,
the rich would have us all believe
the way ahead's to exploit and devour;
reward their greed and starve the poor,
show those requesting help the door;
their meditullium is rank and sour.
But, as before, their day will come,
you can't treat normal folk like scum,
like they exist to fund your pension plan.
Ere long we'll see the tide will turn,
it's not beyond our kind to learn.
With care this pie can nourish ev'ry man.
|
Author Notes
Today's word: meditullium (n.) the absolute middle or core of something.
Alas, my high school's approach to teaching languages ensured I never learned French, but I do recognise a few popular phrases. I also believe there is some contention over whether Marie ever said these words, and over the literal meaning. I don't think these issues are important from the point of view of this poem.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book.
|
|
