The State of Play

The State of Play

Dogma, theory, law instruct us all:

There’s them that’s got, and them that’s not;

That, without the readies or the wherewithal,

We are merely fodder, fit for the pot!

Strip Creation, Nature, down t’the bone,

privatize ‘til life expire, unbeknown –

 Dispossess! So, all becomes their own.

Live a life eternal, easy-free:

 free to feast on inequality,

free to worship Money and Self alone,

free to crown our human ape-baboon

  future Queen and King of Mars or Moon.

Free to rob and dispossess the poor,

Making Abrahamic chasms wider,

Free to set elites above the law

 hoping none of us may be the wiser,

free to reign as cosmic clones of New-Man:

 monied revelations of Space-born Hu-Man !



poem on billionaire space travel while the earth dies


would-be poet who voted Diem25 in the last European elections




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