This poem is from The Los Angeles Times Sunday Edition, Opinion section:


We do not like red ink from Ken

And so we must know where and when

And what he knew and what he took And did he do it by the book?

We want to hear you, Kenneth Lay,

We want to let you have your say.

Tell us how your Enron dream

Became the bankrupt Enron scheme.

Tell us where the money went--

Was it shredded? Was it spent?

We heard your wife say on TV

That now you live in poverty.

How ever will you just survive

With so few houses--four or five?

Yes, you feathered your own nest

But what became of all the rest?

We'd like to know, we want to hear

And so you must perforce appear.

Congress wanted you to show--

We waited, wanted, longed to know.

You stood us up, though, Mister Lay:

For all we know, you've gone away.

Where could you have got to, please:

Among the chocolates, cash and cheese

Of Switzerland, the land of banks,

And secret shekels, bucks and francs?

Are you in Tora Bora's caves

Or in the Sunset Strip's teen raves?

Or to the Caymans did you go

To visit all that offshore dough?

Have you gone to the south of France

To get a tan and learn to dance?

Perhaps no matter where you go

You'll one day see what we all know:

You took advantage, Kenneth Lay,

You made the law work just your way.

You shook the hands, you signed the checks

And left a trail of fiscal wrecks.

Made paupers of some honest folk

And made the Enron name a joke.

So we the people, we the dopes,

Who don't exactly know the ropes

Who don't have friends in marble halls

Or presidents return our calls

For us, you must reveal your tricks,

Then stand up straight and take your licks.

We have to know, red ink and Ken

To see it won't occur again.


by Patt Morrison

Interesting, to say the least...