Pause For Poetry:
Michael Hawkes /85

The Goods

December 12, 2024

A poem by Michael Hawkes

The world’s a blob of merchandise
Comprised of oceans, earth and ice
Where every atom has a price
And every item is for sale.

A few tycoons would own the lot,
There’s little left they haven’t got;
The bidding’s getting very hot,
They seek the golden grail.

While profiteering is a vice,
The benefits are very nice,
One tries to get a bigger slice
And watch other fellas fail.

When in the market for some thing,
Be it bread and salt, or bling,
Forget about the window shopping,
‘n Have it brought by mail.

If properties do not suffice,
Spit in your hand and roll the dice,
Then pray to land in paradise
And miss the trip to jail.

30/08/21 – Hawkes

Feature image: Pixabay

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