Unpacking the Lizard Brain from the Licentious Denizens of the Money Men

they call it lizard brain
sex, power, immediacy
drug-induced hedge fund impresarios
$1500 a trick, they laugh at sums
smaller than one million in Krugerrand
instant gratification hitting the jackpot
one more bites the dust
let them eat cake . . .
let the masters rule

someone asked if they know they
are killing their young, taking
the planet into biological implosion
is it a snake, simple, pure, or some
Monitor lizard we call Zionists
vulture capitalists, parasitic
things like Bain Capital, or is it
smoothies at Starbucks
something hidden in their façade
that kills deep within

Is there worth on Wall Street . . . ?
at least rancheros are written
for drug lords, soccer fields built
big grand halls, and the guitars
and accordion, Flaco Jimenez
but Zionist-Crypto Jesus thinkers
toll-toll-toll takers, clan of lawyers
monetizing uninflatable air bags
exploding Chevy pick-ups
these are the scum, no songs for them
just trillions pushed here and pushed there
until every last poet sells out to
someone, something

we make them sharks or lizards
when the purity of species hundreds of
millions of years in line, perfected
have nothing in common with disease
One Percent and counting down
until point-zero-zero One Percent
are the captains and deckhands
sinking this ship now
capitalizing on their glitter, $1500 an hour
to kiss their rings

like popes, flying monkey bishops
living like Elton John, dashing to the poor
lifting lineage of syphilitic arms
pronouncing Obama and Netanyahu
saviors of peoples, as the wailing wall
wailers dig in, selling tales of tyranny
the wall of Palestine, CTV, immovable Rome plows
the Caterpillar of Rachel Corrie’s demise
all-American company outsourced-offshored
to despicable gun hoarders, Switzerland

there is that sulfur coming from National
Putrid Radio, the slithering hipsters, the guffaw
when homeless-sick-poor-us are their “other”
scripted no-news, focus on celebrities, the blathering
Beltway winners, professing how the losers
shall inherit nothing, small tokens from other
Beltway teleprompters, Ivy-leaguers selling
souls for controlled opposition . . . so many non-profits
eviscerated of souls, kettled and held at bay
through the deception of language, deception of
consensus nothingness, until it’s a job

they bow to that king rat, those rabid dogs
of death, the leapers who build electronic fences
battering rams, pilotless scarabs drilling into our
skulls, at the skunk hour
robots and software, these Art of War
Darwinists, Spencer and Friedman their gods

when will it collapse, the entire project on Capital?
there are bookies taking bets
there are funny-looking androgyny making
crocodile tear stories on TeeVee
there are think-tanks stuck in a pool
of intellectual piranhas
apes running DARPA, NSA
billboard salesmen puffing up Boeing
GE, earth-shattering companies
where mom and pop work, those bits and pieces
cogs and supersonic
screws, ready for more targets

we watch them, call some buzzards, or blood suckin’
ticks, show them dried cottonmouths
Photoshop great White Shark teeth onto furry
pups, we call them gods, demons
Wall Street and the financial felons
we want what they have, some of it
just a box-full of diamonds will do
no Club Med membership
just enough so we too can
slither into the sun-drenched North
Pole, just enough for a job,triple-car

enough to be near those lizard brains
so we can genuflect and wail for demigods
learn Aramaic, speak in rattlesnake tongues
tithe for the new church of baseball
we pray and kneel, reality TV
yet we know the ship
is sinking, but something in us, that penchant
for repetition, the head in the sand . . . that
can’t see the wood for the trees insolence
it tethers us to false hope, a yearning
as the lizard brains haggle for more crimes
and we are on their clock, $1 million an hour
services, trade-offs, so we can see
our graves at birth
something to look forward to
the shadow of their bodies
we grab for, lost mother
whet nurses, sharks
$1,500 a second
just a kiss, something
we can take with us

Paul Haeder's been a teacher, social worker, newspaperman, environmental activist, and marginalized muckraker, union organizer. Paul's book, Reimagining Sanity: Voices Beyond the Echo Chamber (2016), looks at 10 years (now going on 17 years) of his writing at Dissident Voice. Read his musings at LA Progressive. Read (purchase) his short story collection, Wide Open Eyes: Surfacing from Vietnam now out, published by Cirque Journal. Here's his Amazon page with more published work Amazon. Read other articles by Paul, or visit Paul's website.