One Big Beautiful Bank Job!
Raymond Nat Turner
Masked. Armed to the teeth. Synchronized Rolexes. They left Lamborghini and Maserati Motors purring … softly in the shadows on Capitalist Hill
And then—suddenly—in sonic boom unison they Shouted at The People: UP AGAINST THE WALL—MUTHAFUKKKAS! GET ‘EM UP! THIS IS A FUCKIN STICKUP!
Yo, fatso! Yeah, you. Waddle your way over to Senator Sadist. You, on the crutches; swing over to Congressman Cruel. Move it! Don’t make me bust a cap in your poor Ol’ tired cripple ass! Did it in Afghanistan. Did it in Iraq.
Outta that wheelchair and on the floor, Pops! And, while you’re at it, gimme me those teeth. Move it! Quick, fork over the hospice money. Chop-chop, drop life expectancies in Golden Dome!
Hey, Bag Lady, drop those damn vouchers in the Billionaire bag over there! Yo, Sambo! Down on the Ground! Keep your fuckin mouth shut and no one will get Hurt …Well, at least until … after we make our get away
Hey, Granny, gimme those meds! Hand over the Medicaid, ol’ maid. Listen up, kids! Drop those school lunches in the Billionaire bag. Yo, Teach, handover Head Start!
OK—simple-minded sukkkas—quick, up on your feet! We’re breaking you for the billionaires; and Boss Tweet—Robbing and plundering you, for the Murderous 1% Mob Pulling off—yet another—One Big Beautiful Bank Job!