The Reformed Financial
Felon Poem

For many long years I lived in a prison,
A prison of vulgar materialism,
Acquiring goods was the aim of my toilings,
Ignoring all higher spiritual callings.

With all kinds of bought things I was long surrounded,
I owned countless gadgets, my boy toys astounded,
From autos and watches I carefully chose,
My wife was Miss Texas, she owned lots of clothes.

Then out of the blue came a dragged out recession,
Which at first I believed was just a digression,
I figured at worst it would trim down some perks,
Who knew it would linger and gum up the works?

Soon I was smitten with trials unholy,
They repoed my beamer, my condo, my Rollie,
Miss Texas, who’d sworn in her heart I was graven,
Took up with a lawyer, a class action maven.

My home life was bad, but at work it was worse,
I suffered indignities, crass and perverse,
While colleagues got wrist slaps when their sins were cited,
A pushy DA got me cuffed and indicted.

It was down hill from there, but why dwell on the past,
The big thing is that all this angst didn’t last,
For I learned from the horrors with which I was gored,
That a far greater Wisdom I’d too long ignored.

I saw in a flash that my whole life was rotten,
That all the possessions I owned were ill-gotten,
To a judge I explained this, head bowed, meek and nervous,
He nodded and gave me community service.

From there I embarked on the road of contrition,
Proclaiming this Truth became my new mission,
And contrition, I found, is a marvelous hook,
Soon I had a good agent, a best-selling book.

The book was my passport and soon I was able,
My message to spread via columns and cable,
On Oprah I ‘splained living simple’s just fine,
And flashed a CD priced at $9.99.

Strange as it seems, I earn more than before,
By loudly espousing the joys of the poor.
To keep this new rich life, I need just decoy it
And straight-faced declare I don’t really enjoy it.

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