Avarice: Modern Man as He Lay Dying

Destruction defining death by Debt,

Look at me!  See the bruises blue


through the thin membrane of my skin.  I am

Disaster.  I am Capital.  Disaster Capital


is an economic term, but my body reflects how


we have defined what is important to

the Planet, so I nurse myself licking my own


wounds in wonder of why.  Mirrors surround the land

adrift alone in water.  Could be Hell or Haiti: the play-


ground of the Worthy Wealthy.  Nothing is

reflected on now, except how many hands now grow


from faces.  Eyes are too tired to see the relief

for Natural Disasters come in the form of Fiscal


Disasters aided by the circle of Greed. Rolling

gigantic boulders painted in ornate gold-


leaf to and fro, the World Leaders now shout

back and forth, Why do you Waste? Why do you


Hoard?  We are puppets dropped on the World—the infinite

stage of jest that it is. The truth about Disaster is


that it is Man-made

against Mankind.


1 Comment

  1. Reblogged this on disdainfulbeauty.

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