Something I wrote a while back.

The debtors here are cloaked and anointed.
The creditors salivate and bow, hungry and humble
And happy that, everywhere, extravagance and industry
Have swapped, one for another.

Here, Caesar in his deepest madness is a pauper
And everyone has cable now, and commands legions
From a cushioned perch, half chair, half bed
And calls up delicacies

While, for coin enough, a hard life is bought
And a log house with a wood fire
Is an artful reconnection, and a shotgun
Is a holy sacrament