DEBT

DEBT

wanted to
write a little poem
about suffering
about genocide

but
spam and telemarketing
rained down
from Heaven like
peverse
pay-later manna

and incessant reminders and
encouragement
to settle my
outstanding
debts wonderful, this world

once God
declared for capitalism
poetry and
profit
such excellent bedfellows
like lovers
in Hell

and talking of Hell
there is
fear and consideration
of media troll monsters
children of the children of
the fat uncles and
aunties
who battleshipped the streets
in my small English town

so no poem
I’m sorry

no tiny increment to
add to this struggle

you are
on your own again, I’m
afraid

nothing more than ashamed failure
(with the rest of the world
accused by
this legal Penthisilea

I stand
not with
my brave South African
compatriots
far from this dock)