Jack and Jill
    Went up the hill
    To fetch a pail of water
    Jack fell down
    And broke his crown,
    And Jill came tumbling after
 
The emperors are getting caught with their pants down,
flashy smiles now wearing a frown
instead of suit&tie, epaulettes and stolen crowns.
 
The emperors wanted the women (and some of the men)
to have no clothes on at 10 a.m.
but the peeps were busy trying to 9-to-5-it
to pay the bills maybe get some thrills after work,
maybe climb the corporate-entertainment-government ladder
but things got sadder.
 
The patriarchy arched its back
as if the sex would abate the deeper lack,
an addiction to the feminine energy
while at the same time regarding them as the enemy,
feeling threatened by their Mother Earthly power,
commodifying them by the overtime hour.
 
This is the beginning of the end of the male domination,
of the enforced chauvinistic insemination
mirrored by the injections of chemicals and drills
for fracking, oil, minerals and other Jack-off and Jills.
 
Emperors, put your clothes back on,
the rush is over, thrill is gone,
your dangly things are wrinkled and shrunk
and your overlords fear their ratings have sunk.
 
Now these emperors will have to measure day by day
as they stare into the vacuum of their endless play,
and try to find a way . . .
 
Meanwhile don’t forget the overlords,
those behind the scenes,
whose names barely make the credits
yet whose spindly fingers pull the strings, control the screens.