Ok the last bit of floatsam from the G+ poetry slam

Ninety-Nine  Percent

A common political diffusion, focused on fixed financial profusion, aimed at mass confusion, promoting a mechanistic mentality
That does its best to box us in, set us up, and rob us of our Humanity

Such HARD choices , made before most of us even take a breath

A "matter of fact" world made up of mean compromise and shoddy pretence

A salesman's paradise without dimension, a staged scene, a painted over prop produced to push a lie:
"Work hard, head down , just like Us -  you to can Rise
Or accept your lot, turn on your TV -set, relax and let it happen, You were born to serve"  

Our fruits, our ken, our hardest won rewards (tell of something more)
Our Poetry, our Literature, our Songs, sing of something else

But it seems they're all for the dogs?

Even science
Subtle complexity of mind, independent thinking
Chained
Shorn of beauty, laid bare, cold and unadorned
Unloved servant of the flesh
Stripped and strapped and pressed into rude service  
When with it we should soar
To find new vista's, new horizons, new dimensions
The heavens as our gateway, inspiration as our door

But no, it seems we are not set on seeking more
Our freedoms are nothing but a corporate invention, our lives spent marking time in service of a pipe-dream, our best minds bent on making:
                                                                     Fixed, fee, derivative, credit, swaps

And Yet
They call Us mad, for seeking something else?
They say, there is no other way
Things are as they are
                                   and that's how they'll stay
                                                           and so we're forced to "Occupy"

They do not fear us yet, they do not hear us yet
but they will, for we are waking
We are the ninety nine percent