Crooked cronies crowing
For a fatter slice
Of pie
Murderous
The blood is flowing
Reservoirs
Are running dry
And all the while
Skying high
The eagle profits,
Cuts its losses
And makes turkeys
On Thanksgiving
With its guns
And burning crosses
And its greater
Costs of living
Of the doves
And hawks
The parrot squawks
Their dreams of being free
But from behind
A barred complex,
A nest,
A caged
Hypocrisy