Valse Poem by Morgan Michaels

How like a game of musical chairs
these fee-for-service systems
where profit is the goal, not service,
and people do not ask
'what can I do for you', but
'what is it worth to you? '
What can repair the sentiment once,
honest and pure,
lost?

How like a game of musical chairs
when bosses, cold to peoples losses
underwrite their profits with their blood,
caring only for their own and their constituents' enrichment,
and greed dazzles need
through the blandishments of advertisement
tv and the movies.
fa!

How like a game of musical chairs.
These fee-for-service systems.

Remove one chair, ok, you can still play.
Remove two, be glad it isn't you.
Take three, take four,
how, you wonder, many more
need pick up and move away.
Just sit down.
This is the way that cities drown
In lethargy and fun-
The emptier the drum
the further it resonates
still the music plays!
Outsource for cheap labor and complain of China?
fa!
But, of course,
there will always be a chair for the boss.
And a nice one.
Not very poetic?
Perhaps not. But poetry is sometimes more than boats on lakes.