Poetry Corner: What is Moneypox?

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moneypox

If your zeal for wealth

Drills holes in sacred forests

If you are ill enough to will it all forever

Will it all to your next of kin now and ever

All of which you did not toil to gather

None of which came from your own harvest

What will kill you is moneypox

 

If you till the ground

Not for green nor for grain

But for gold and for dusty gain

If you fill your pocket to the brim

Till it begins to drip

To drip not into parted hungry lips

But into bloated bellies of VIPs

You are suffering from moneypox

 

If you are in a state of insatiable greed

If that makes you feel to sow no seed

But to reap where you do not sow seed

If that makes you hunt money no matter the cost

To mint more coins to fill your storehouses

If you dare to kill your own

Just to own it all

You have been afflicted by moneypox

 

If your malady breeds greediness in sleepless degrees

If that malady does not feel like malarial fever

But reeks of a pecuniary flavour

If you cough out venom on those less of privileges

And you call them lazy and accursed

And then hang them on the fringes

You are infected with moneypox

A modest remedy you need to seek

 

If you are sick and tired of staying poor

And you think to reap from the poor

If you hesitate to assist the poor

But you hasten a tightened fist toward the poor

If you push a bitter pill down a poor throat

If you breathe out only to air your desire for riches

You are sick and tried by moneypox

 

If you are plagued by the pain of sharing your plenty

But you plan to gain from a dire adversity

If you are fatigued by the pleas of the deprived

But you are obsessed with showing off your means of living

If you look on with glee at their depravity

But you spread your wealth on mere luxuries

You are plagued by moneypox

 

If you don’t feel at ease

In the midst of those of little means

If you can’t dole out even a dime

To become their financial lifeline

If you disguise how you despise the destitute

But you rehearse how to pour praises on the bourgeoisie

Then you are dying from moneypox

 

If you force the monkey to work hard

For the baboon to take the wages

If you take the wages

For work done by the ghost workers

If you decline the wages

Of those offering honest labour

Then your disease can be diagnosed with ease

 

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