Your vernacular usage is privileged as the only discourse

Suited to the now compulsory affirmation of mediocrity.

 Democracy. That’s fair enough I suppose.  S’far as it goes.

Gather to a greatness:  the ooze, ooze of oil.  Toil. Toil.

 Endless gold and land form the sinews of war you say

Let the welfare of the people be the ultimate law you say

No one is so old that he cannot live one more year. Or two.

This night is electric, heavy make-up presages nothing new.

These Cavalier poets gathered on this stage put all heaven

In a rage.  The simple demand that all people should be free?

 Angels alone, that soar, above, enjoy such unfettered liberty.

To live in hell but sing of heaven is Cavalier freedom, you see

A bracelet of bright hair about the bone is all that’s left of her,

Sir, I cannot see in your false democracy, anything to a-stir me.