Those with deadened thinking glands could not perceive the cheating hands that Shiteman brought with words of silk to speak of wealth with King and ilk That they in need of greater rank might throng en masse at Shiteman's bank to borrow papers newly printed (Shiteman's house had no coins minted) In marble halls on leather hide Shiteman sat at counters wide to watch his clients sinking deep in credit binges newly steeped And only when the door slammed shut did Shiteman's silken words turn smut for debt collection came next day with mortgaged assets under sway Thus pounced the greedy leaden hand while snoring Princes in their land saw hard earned toils of ages past fill bankers' purse through bailiff's grasp Oh what fun that con to play but Shiteman hid it well that day for waiting patiently he found the King himself had debts unsound! And sure enough did come the grovel from men of State in language novel granting Shiteman powers new in ways whose import struck but few And by whose deed the King did borrow sufficient more to last the morrow till war did force him down at heel once more in need of Shiteman's seal Thus did power pass from Kings and peoples' hands to stench filled things that had no love for honest toil and only lived by others spoiled And debt repayment came to rise above the Sun in most men's skies and ruled by fear of repossession the very soul of life's expression By their menace lands would starve three hundred years of concrete carved and poison gas would swathe the earth to cull one-half in deathly dearth Who would have thought this of the world when Shiteman's bastard bank unfurled on paper slips a solemn promise to pay in gold (though none was honest) Protest oh children, while still young, or has the debt tied up your tongue? what, hungry now, too tired to speak? but GDP was up this week! Then die as data nicely charted in glossy brochures finely crafted that tell us much of worldly ills but mention not the hand that kills And manufacture disagreement counting costs but not bereavement plotting forward better times though each year's graph shows downward lines And knowing well that trap infernal the cure unsaid in every journal is that life for which we hanker means the end for Shiteman banker June 2003