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“The Winter of our Discontent” by Reed Whittemore 🇺🇸 (11 Sep 1919 – 6 Apr 2012)
Each day the earlier dark,
Each dark the strengthened cold.
Blame the fat Utility, blame rich Oil,
Blame the Old,
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Those profiteers of winter.
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Say, “Thou hast played most foully for it—
For Glamis, Cawdor, All.”
Say the sun is rigged, and the jet stream.
Blast City Hall,
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Kiddo.
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Confront, refute, confound, conspire,
And in your turn shake a leg
To convert the cold to profit,
The dark to a nest egg.
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Yes, my America.
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For each green fang and claw
Let the season’s loot be spread,
As each day the winter widens,
And rude sons strike rude fathers
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Dead.