An Auctioning Of Lives
bombs keep falling
an auctioneer keeps calling,
highest numbers win
“check the price of the champaign
they’re swigging”
the filthy rich like to play
their part
bidding
on some fine art,
clapping
after some benign speech
about self-serving
charitable
aid relief,
it’s easy to be virtuous
when living in a park lane
penthouse,
and
all these lectures
about displacement
obliterating history
through defacement
a narrative controlled by greed
there ain’t no standing ovation
when you leave,
no delayed punishment
or reprieve
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