How complex and twisty
the syntax of Shakespeare,
like a river—misty,
yet running smooth and clear.
He clung to the scant sunlight
of her love in Wintertime,
never letting go so he might
move on to a warmer clime.
“Money doesn’t grow on trees”
they always tell you,
but it can, does, and with ease
if you have enough revenue.
It grows on a complex leaf,
which is to say, legislation
rooted in Conservative belief
to benefit the wealthiest of the nation.
If you inherit enough wealth
and sit on it, year to year,
and if the economic health
of the stock market is without fear
then your dividends will grow
larger and larger, beyond anyone’s need,
so you reap more than you sow
like some inverse Johnny Appleseed.
Some might say the rich stay on top
by being smart and having the “knack”,
but the rich employ the cream of the crop
and insider trading, a Farmer’s Almanac.
And they all have a tax shelter—
arboreal shade on another shore
to weather crises and helter-skelter;
more orchards than the toiling poor.