Monday 1 October 2018

The Empire of Empires


In reading Common Dreams article on Arundhati Roy's take on the free market, I have imagined the following poem.


The Market

Reading the common dreams of any day
I see an image of a man, naked
starved, his skin almost transparent
his bones protruding through
and then the chair of the committee
who, needing to justify his salary
wonders what use a starving man can be?

Might the cup of rice, twenty beans 
and litre of water he consumes 
be better spent in a bank account 
somewhere 
in Switzerland or London?

If every man, woman and child
was blown to dust in a global war
except for the employable 10%
who serve their masters

might that put an end to poverty?

And might the chair
take his idea to the board
who would then advise
not to tell anyone 
not a word, a hint or question
for a hundred years
would he do as he is told?

Or would he see that starving man
every night (before he falls asleep)
for the rest of his life?





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