Friday, 21 December 2012
Capitalism used to work,
by the simple promise of a carrot,
the joys of being wealthier than others,
promotion, promotion, promotion.
But the carat has lost its lustre,
and now a stick has to be used as well.
This stick takes the form of a war on the poor,
to be witchunted, scapegoated and demonised,
as they get out their scissors, and cut, cut, cut.
If I was a violent man,I'd stand outside and fight,
but all I can muster is a slow dance,
as I gather up some moist crumbs of happiness,
and with some simple words and signs, feed survival.
Tomorrow, I look for safe asylum,
remember the victims who have no knowledge of the future,
follow horizon, engraved with the pulse of struggle.
Plant flares in the mist,
Seasons Greetings/Happy Solstice
Posted by teifidancer at 09:30