Fair Luna

Down she beams on the battle weary Earth
As if to clear the independence smoke
On which all citizens annually choke,
In sadomasochistic freedom mirth,
To prove how much they love the empire
Situated between those shining seas
Formally ruled by Britannic decrees  
And now just by capitalist desire.
 
But the moon couldn't give a shit about that.
 
From her treasury of orbital cold
She shines both seas with her summer gold
Exchanged from her diminishing gibbous fat,
Forever buying high and selling low
With a rich egalitarian glow!