THE FORCE THAT THROUGH THE GREEN FUSE DRIVES THE FLOWER

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower
Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees
Is my destroyer.
And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose
My youth is bent by the same wintry fever.

The force that drives the water through the rocks
Drives my red blood; that dries the mouthing streams
Turns mine to wax.
And I am dumb to mouth unto my veins
How at the mountain spring the same mouth sucks.

The hand that whirls the water in the pool
Stirs the quicksand; that ropes the blowing wind
Hauls my shroud sail.
And I am dumb to tell the hanging man
How of my clay is made the hangman's lime.

The lips of time leech to the fountain head;
Love drips and gathers, but the fallen blood
Shall calm her sores.
And I am dumb to tell a weather's wind
How time has ticked a heaven round the stars.

And I am dumb to tell the lover's tomb
How at my sheet goes the same crooked worm.

This 'stimulus' regime will never succeed in reviving the tattered world economy. President Hoover tried the same thing in 1930. It failed then and it will fail now.

However, as a means of redistribution of wealth the results the program will be a spectacular and enduring success. What we are witnessing is the inevitable result of liberal republican democracy-- Socialism- wherein all increasingly scarce resources will be henceforth rationed. ‘From each in accord with his abilities and to each in regard to his needs’ is an idea whose time has now arrived.

And to those who mourn for the ‘productive’ sector of society it’s high time for them to accede to the truth that the real problem with the world economy is not[i] lack[/i] of production but rather meaningless and destructive production. Entropic resolve. The overwhelming majority of the world's workers are engaged in transforming the earth into a vast strip-mine dedicated to producing abject shit for the benefit of those whom FDR called the 'economic royalists.' The famous graffiti at the Sorbonne during the New Paris Commune of 1968 will prove to be not only prescient, but will also serve as a warning: ‘Humanity will not be happy until the last capitalist is strung-up from the guts of the last bureaucrat.’

The foreshadowed New Revolution is quietly upon us. The Malthusian garrote, now tighted and drawn, has made it so.

Rage against the dying of the light.