Humanity’s brutal exploitation of the natural world for profit is the subject of this poetic condemnation of corporate avarice.
A dying animal knows no shame;
No pity sits upon its head.
How many dreamers have you slain
Upon that cold four-poster bed?
A silken shirt or sateen gown
Conceal little but the beast beneath.
A wolf disguised as common clown,
On ancient rocks you grind your teeth.
Rape all. Leave not a stone at rest!
Are you not discomforted?
Fat maggots in your bloated breast
Have with interest profited.
Your dusk is nearing, wretched thief!
Must you gnaw on a bitter bone?
A bough for bird, or bee, or leaf;
Now unquestionably alone.
© 2016 Nemo
Nemo
Nemo is a poet from Thanet who writes poetry to improve his mental health.
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2 Comments
Love it. Reminds me of a poem I wrote about ‘convenience’
Got any more in the pipeline? I read all your poems.