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.

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