Sold Down The River

Mouldy moon waxes rotten
it’s not made of industrial cotton
splitting at putrid seams
in pollution turning livid green.

River god spits hello halo
there’s no wilderness... fiscal glow
tribute printed upon mortuary slab
exchanged smash for monetary grab.

Cheese sweats summer heat
rats’ sweets so very nice eat
if spring isn’t suddenly sprung
nibbles free corruptive every one.

Until ultimate sentence metal teeth bite
breaking scurrying dead mares night
rodent rats respectively rich rabid ones
sell human posterity into collective slums.

Mistaken myth money cleanses every crime.

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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