Ode to Jonathan Swift

Nigh 300 years since your modest proposal

To generate wealth by childrens’ disposal

That a heartless Elite might yet eat hearty

Whether dining alone or trussing a party

Be they stewed or roasted, baked or broiled

Or cured in salt that they be not spoiled

Upon storing for use at special occasion

With candles and silver and libation

Yearling babes without prospect or food

Might again be served for national good.

 

Right to Lifers will surely object

The very ones who strangely forget

That carrying to term is briefest taste

Of costs that mount with steady haste

Til workers crippled by woe and want

Cramp the style of Landlords who flaunt

Their lordship o’er the ones who produce

Or would if employment they could induce

From Robber Barons whose greatest pleasure

Is wealth beyond imagination and measure.

 

I pray Better Than Thou’s and Holy Rollers

To cease the squander of elections and dollars

Betaking themselves to a choice of war fronts

To stand between pregnant women and grunts

Shall be grander service to mankind and life

Than repetitive, circular, winless strife

The peace they’d sow they could not savor

With American babies seasoned for flavor

Compel our withdrawal from the Middle East

And upon our Yearlings we’ll need not feast.

One Response to Ode to Jonathan Swift

  1. I think you are too good to be writing genius! Deployment, perhaps we can see more here thanks.

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