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The Rolling Stones to play
For free in Cuba!
Watch and see;
They’ll film it and sell it—
Socialism, indeed!

Dylan will be next.
He’ll pull out his easel
And paint
The salty Cuban fisherman
And steely dock workers,
Then sell his paintings for
Thousands to adorn the walls
Of wealthy socialites.

Stalwarts of capitalism
Capitalizing on the
Lure of socialism.
Who are they fooling?

Capitalism eats its
Socialistic young
Who are lured by
The word, “free”—
Free love, free stuff,
Free college, free money.
“Free money?”
How does that work?

Free is the name of
A dinosaur rock group
And the name of a
Just as ancient song by The Who:
“I’m freeee!”

Not much is free, and
Who but The Stones
And Dylan
Understand it more—
They in their estates
On Montauk Island in New York,
Like Jagger,
And Malibu Beach in California,
Like Bobby Zimmerman,
With their secured walls
And protection from police.
Protection from what?

Capitalism sets them free
And eats its socialistic young,
Who wail for what
They don’t have
To be given to them—
No charge!

Capitalism Trumps socialism
In all its naïve glory.
“I was so much older then /
I’m younger than that now.”
One man’s ugly is
Another man’s fair maiden.

Socialism promises a halcyon land
And delivers caged hypocrisy,
Where everything rhymes with “free.”

So, which is the better,
As The Rolling Stones
Play for free
And Cubans dance in satisfaction
In their bloodied streets?

S.A. Bort  5 March 2016

[above painting:  “Sunday Afternoon” by Bob Dylan]