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Gulliber’s Travels

Babbling baby boomer prose about how it happened while we should have been watching

Photo by author of mini-daffodils from the yard. Please plant these around my headstone — if you can find it.

Not as reported on BBC

We didn’t plot a course.
We went where the sands of time drove us.
Tycoons bought up the lagoons
And sold us little pieces
At huge profits,
While we worked hard to be middle class,
Not realizing how dispensable we all were
In the scheme of tycoonery.
We were just tools
For the tillage of the almighty dollar,
Fools in the fields of plenty,
Getting just enough to get by,
Then encouraged to die,
Quietly,
With our boots on,
In our sleep,
As the sun sets slowly
On the expendable

American middle class.