The bribe smells of desperation
It stinks like soured milk, which can
keep you alive, as it makes you sick.

The ideas, like the milk are sour,
there are not enough ‘others’
to torture to satisfy an impoverished base.

The self-aggrandizement has
flown too close to the sun,
where even gold melts.

We’ve run out of missiles for
which to wag the dog, and
losing alone is painful.

Our neighbors don’t even hate us,
rather they pity us
for our wretchedness.

But the bribe… now that we
can do, for corruption is all
that is left… no matter how it stinks.

So drink up America, for this
is what the Gold King calls Great!