There ain't no shame,
Poor Rich Daley Town—
Where our green rivers leak,
Bridges fall up, not down—
you are free to speak
(just don't close the drive!)
you are free to leave
sorry, Meigs took a dive.
the fog still comes in
on little cat feet
"what's in it for me?"
still sounds as sweet.
the school kids fail
(about half of them do)
yet the deals get done.
now, who sent you?
our aldermen fifty
smooch the big ring
ain't no opposition
just lots of "ca-change!"
to the few who vote:
yes, you him and me
we gets what we gets
all this—Yippee!
our contracts are huge
then get REALLY fat
and go to our friends—
got a problem with that?
"Urbs in Horto"
it says on the seal;
here's a wad of green
let's do the deal!!
the streets are real clean
the ironwork black—
Millennium Park
of course is on track
now sell your insurance
my brother's white-shirt'ers
cuz we're number One!
in per capita murders
duh Mare has spoken
what he said, um, is clear—
something about safety?
or something about fear?
to all dem people
who let dis here happen
Poor Rich Daley Town
again caught you napping
we'll have an election
no wait, don't bother
we'll keep him for life—
The Son, like father!
c.2003 dave janssen
roscoe village
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