The Big Issue

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Bodiless message

Reached me around sun-up:

No place, today,

To rest, to think.

Dragged my bones to

The Markets of Faith,

En route to the

Hall of Candles;

Met a man

Who offered

All that he could,

The sum-total, in fact,

Of all that he was –

He wanted my trust,

But needed my money.

“Why aren’t you working?”

I dared not ask,

Too

English-polite to offend.

I have been carrying a cross

For a life time now,

One that I should lay

Next to somebody’s name.

I should ask them

That very question:

Why isn’t this man working?

What will you do to help him?

What are you doing for this local,

Here-every day, everyman?

Why would you rather commit my money,

My future, that of my family,

To those we do not know.

Eye, Dollar, Tree.

“Oil is the new diplomacy-

The way to power of course-

Debt is the new and most fashionable honesty,

Shareholders the latest terrorists,”

The clown-president

With the burger-wide smile

Mouths the Doctor Spin phrases.

The elephant leans left,

The horse swings right;

The latest polls hold the key –

The one that nobody can really grasp –

“I wouldn’t vote for that,

There’s plenty more whales

In the sea!”