A doughy-faced man in a suit's on TV, telling you that
All the things that he wants are clearly the products
Of "common sense." Tax cuts for tycoons and limits
On unions, resource extraction in national parks.
They don't seem common-sensical, but you can't know.
The great mass of ruminants, penned in their cubicles,
Nod as he speaks, as if, deep in their darkness, an
Idiot genie is telling them that they demand everything
That he says.