Economics

The bitter black salty seeds

(harvested from
the Caspian depths
by third generation
river pirates

are a lavish toast to new friends/enemies
as the crescent moon ascends the sickle,
blood-rusted and blunt.

In the East, wealthy towers gleam with tomorrow’s
dawn while the West chokes an oil-fuelled cough,
bunkers
down
in the shadow of Hiroshima,
and
mutes another constitution.

Why then, do the fat gorge themselves
before purging caviar to make way
for the last quail’s egg? Why
is the clean taste of imported vodka
much preferred to a luxurious bloody claret?

The old order of the cross is dying
never more to walk the inland seas.
Cash and Kalashnikovs are current
for debts of blood and faith.