9-11 AND THE FACE OF ANARCHY IN NEW ORLEANS

As I lay awake
There came a loud voice
From across the land,
And with great power
It showed me
The Face of Anarchy.

I met Murder on the way-
He had a mask like Dick Cheney-
Very smooth he looked, yet grim-
Seven blood-hounds followed him:

All were fat; and well they might
Be in admirable plight,
Because one by one, and two by two,
He tossed them human hearts to chew
Which from his wide suit he drew.

Next came Fraud, and he had on,
Like George W. Bush, a scarlet frown;
His big tears, for he wept well,
Changed to hard stones as they fell.

And the poor, unfit children who
Round his feet played to and fro,
Thinking every tear a gem,
Had their brains knocked out by them.

Clothed with the Bible, as with light,
And the shadows of the night,
Like Pat Robertson, next, Hypocrisy
On a crocodile slithered by.

And many more Destructions were
In this ghastly masquerade,
All disguised, even to the eyes,
Like terrorists, lawyers, or spies.

Finally, Anarchy arrived:
He rode in a black limousine,
Splashed with blood;
He was pale most in the lips,
Like Death in the Apocalypse.

And he wore a kingly crown,
But in his hands were skull and bones;
From his mouth these words I heard-
I am God and President
And Law…..only
The richest and fittest shall survive!