Economics, July 4 (an old poem i found)

breath in and bellow your song
low rumbling down in your dark chest
the heart of the land beats strong as
there are living fingers of green shooting
up from the soil to reach my hands running down
along the tassel-headed rows

each corn plant plants a flag
for its own plot, the lot
is taxed and tricked from the common hand
the rich will hire out the common man
from earth to plant to corn to cash
from plows to shares from boom to crash
from derivatives back to common math