The “culture of dishonesty”
Began a tender shoot,
That no one minded: “Let it be,
The plant cannot take root.”
These were the words in politics
(And mostly of one party),
Since Nixon up to dirty tricks—
Excuses started arty,
But lately (in these unctuous times)
Lack any sort of varnish,
No pretense covers up their crimes
As men their compact tarnish.
What once had been a little Bush
Has now grown monstrous tall,
Jack’s beanstalk, grown gigantic lush
That once had seemed so small.
Alas, dishonesty took root
Not just in politicians:
The common man his own repute
Cast off with prohibitions.
One nation, liars all, alas,
Save one or two of valor,
This “last best hope” was bound to pass
And has a sickly pallor.
To “make us great” men’s hubris spoke,
But when they cast aside
Honesty then all prospect broke,
And so the spirit died.