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Poetry

It Is Sweet and Decorous
To Be Poor In One's Country

Deviation from Wilfred Owen's “Dulce Et Decorum Est”

Kim Loomis-Bennett

Bent double
like ransacking thieves,
we reversed the contents
of our houses
into trucks.  The days
of sleeping late,
of satellite TV,
Internet shopping sprees,
lattes before work—gone. 
Dental check-ups,
maternity leave, paid vacations
are yesterday's daydream. 
We are soon gone
to live in tents, trailers,
our sister's basement—
soon to sell our possessions
one by one. 
We of the masses:
no workplace, no paycheck—
newly dispossessed,
cleaned out, deprived of ownership,
grieve for the days when we owned
the pots we pissed in.

The New Lie c/o of Bernanke:
Americans' hard work and creativity can receive their proper rewards.

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