(middlemen can always afford
to pay--We but make vain complaints):

born from its twisted Womb, unethical,
they hoard God's vast unquestionable store
of ALL--so questionable merchandise--

those paragons of all that we adore,
those merchants of everything
that we mortals implore of Providence,
trustees of our bankrupt souls: so keen

--I guess for the realism--they are seen
selling them in the streets. But, like routine,
tossing us crumbs they tell us: "This is a world of dough!"

where often God's sweet representatives DO intervene
to indulge in cakes the soldier, magistrate, or
libertine--                          

   ... whilst hustling all the rubes
& ragtags here below like dirty cheats
out of their hard-earned lives   

                             & go
settled with saintly Sin, Scot-free of LAW.