Poems for the New Plantation
The Grand Design
What are our rulers up to?
What is their ultimate goal,
That they'd freely get rid of our melting pot
And give us a salad bowl?
They don't want us strong and united,
The land of the brave and the free;
They want us in thrall to our global masters,
A polyglot peasantry.
Here is the plan linguistic:
A modern-day Tower of Babel.
It goes with the plan economic:
Elite using downtrodden rabble.
How great must our efficiency be
Before we can ever begin to see
The fruit of this high productivity?
It seems that upon the latest inspection,
(Please help me here if you have a correction)
We're headed in exactly the wrong direction.
They promised us growing prosperity,
Instead we get income disparity
When labor's a global commodity.
The outcome is natural according to some,
The problem, they say, is our workers are dumb.
One can't help hoping their time will come.
It's clear to us now we've been deceived,
We made a mistake when we believed
The "expert" advice that we received.
The doctrine of totally unfettered trade
Is just an ivory tower charade
To have us compete with the underpaid.
So well-trained workers in the West
Can do their very level best
And wage rates still will be depressed.
Some still make out, you wonder why
Their recompense remains so high:
See how they limit their supply.
Those who really know the score
Will tell you that often less is more,
What counts is what you can sell it for.