Not just another ism,
But the religion of the id,
Which takes from greed the lid.
Itís spiritual letters are F.U.
For that must be the view,
When finding ways to earnings maximise,
So feelings can possessions prize.
Money, money, money,
To a capitalist is honey,
And a piece of silly paper,
Gives now moral right to any caper.
A capitalist will a weaker person always kick,
(South Eastern Railways and its monopoly?)
And them with any charges stick,
So execuspives at bonus time,
Can about themselves feel fine.
For to a capitalist it is the state,
That little bits of paper carry weight,
And little electronic dots upon a screen,
Can them with joy make scream.
But can this way last,
With just paper as ballast?
Are electronic dots secure,
Can we be of the future sure?
Do I see writing on a wall,
Of what will us befall?
Or do I just hallucinate,
And need doctors to me medicate?
---January 11, 2009---
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