so if we can’t afford to eat,
i guess we’ll eat the rich
& if our taps run poison,
hit them up to get a drink
& when they take away our homes,
that’s when we’re moving in
not unlike the book of Esther,
the proverbs, or Tao Te Ching –
for in vain a net is spread
in sight of any bird,
but these men wait in ambush
for themselves, to spill their
blood.
the lot is cast, the lines are drawn,
but Nature laughs the last
the last job, which no app can take:
the gravediggers of capital –
no, we don’t want half of your kingdom,
all of it, or none,
who cannot even understand
the meaning
of your psalms
but day by day, time will tell
which of us will be killed
by this, your masterpiece,
these giant
gallows that you build.
