Speak of the devil

Speak of the devil

there’s something wrong with the weather

there’s something wrong with the money

there’s something wrong with the war…

house of mud/ house of sticks

house of credit/ house of debts…ballooning;

living on a thread, on an inch of life,

I am a finger on the world

a fingernail peeling the skin off the world –

the ice is melting/ the sky is falling

but I won’t stop shopping

won’t stop chopping/ won’t stop shooting

fishing, burning, loving and rooting a planet:

this wonderland, this oceania, this air,

we give fire, aim! fire! kill and overkill…

we gather all the tears for the cameras

and the godless news bedeviled:

bedazzled with popes in golden threads on golden thrones

bewitched with celebrity

bewildered by fundamental strap-on bombs

beheaded/ betrayed, in a land of rocks

men in helmets/ women in veils

masking god as the devil

and the bloody flag catches the blood wind

trading carbon for cash

turning McDonalds into love

turning meat into money

rivers of oil into rivers of dust,

and the rich come begging for more,

and the golden coins trickle down

to shop to shop to shop…

there’s nothing wrong with the weather

there’s nothing wrong with the money

and there’s nothing wrong with the war.

David Hallett


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