ANDROMALIUS

Andromalius is the thirty-sixth spirit.

He discovers thieves.

He returns what was stolen.

Funny then —

that no one has summoned him

into a single chamber of government.

The bill was written by the industry it governed

The committee chair bought stock the morning of the vote

The IMF arrived with loans and left with water rights

Austerity for citizens, the yachts are still afloat

Panama and Paradise, eleven million files

Every flag, every party, every offshore exile

The theft is not a secret

It's disclosed and then forgotten

Every nation, every cycle

Root to rotten

Andromalius stands at the door

Of every vault they said was yours

He names the thief, he holds the proof

But no one let him past the floor

Call the thirty-sixth into the chamber

Let him read the names aloud

The demon meant to punish stealing

Was never once allowed

The central bank inflates the currency you hold

The asset class they own appreciates in gold

Quantitative easing is a transfer dressed in math

The middle class evaporates and no one feels the wrath

From London down to Lagos, Buenos Aires to Seoul

The mechanism is identical — different flags, same toll

This is in the Panama Papers

This is in the congressional disclosure

This is in the IMF's own post-program reviews

The demon doesn't lie

The record does

They will call this populism.

They will call this divisive.

Andromalius doesn't care what they call it.

He holds the ledger.

He holds the name.

He has always held them.

You just never called him in.