Is it your fault a little girl
dressed as the statue of liberty
is on her hands and knees on the floor
of a sumptuous leather-bound office
she’s choking on the scepter of
progress pushed down her throat
by Mr. Industry in front of her with
steely eyes and oily hair and pants undone
who is shaking hands with a bloated
old white man with jowls who keeps
telling the girl he loves her and keeps calling her
Jenny because he’s forgotten her real name
no price is too high to ensure the march of progress
in the land of the free and the home of the brave
everyone is entitled to pursue happiness
but only the rich can afford to achieve it. ☿