Rhymes with “Krakatoa’s gonna blow.”

(9 pm. – promoted by ek hornbeck)

Hustlers control the flow,

They lost their bets and now you owe

The deepest hole that they bestow,

A parting gift, the final blow.

Making off with all that dough,

Their stocks have hit a high plateau.

40 something years ago

The middle class was on the go,

Now what you “own” is what you owe,

The underwater big chateau

How far is down, how low is low?

Don’t look up, watch out below!

Hopey Changey’s status quo

Is emptier than a Home Depot

In jobless ranks he’s called “no-show.”

Of course, he’ll ask you to forgo

Retirement, the afterglow.

While bettors bet the food yo-yo,

And savings earn a fat zero.

Whose woods these are I think I know:

Wednesday’s child is full of woe,

The game’s been rigged to steal the show.

Angry protests grow and grow,

The cops responding with a blow

To the Charter’s final throe.

Tectonic plates begin to glow,

The sulphurous pyroclastic flow

Three times around the world will go.