Like floats outside of Macy's in its annual Thanksgiving
Pagent, lies inflate, proliferate.  There's nothing wrong,
Not anywhere.  We must keep burning hydrocarbons,
Must keep flinging Spanish speakers from our crowded
Cancer wards.  We'll simply ban emergencies, and lay off
All the people who once would have come to deal with
Them.  We will stop collecting data which might indicate
Something's amiss.  In fact, the world's fine.   What's next

Is better.  Cronies will see money made, and those of us

Not well connected can look up to watch the floats, the lies,

Pass by so pleasantly.  It may be better for us to believe

What clearly isn't true than to express some skepticism,

Inasmuch as those who've worked so hard to make us think

That what is not is real turn angry quickly.  Go back home. 

The pagent's over.  Henceforth, what you thought you knew

Is of no use to you.