When venture capitalism
loots a careless economy
on the sick body of Earth
and instant commercialism
trades a bogus harmony
on children at birth,
may this wiser holism
call it the enemy
of all we are worth.

By exposing a truth
not lost in truisms
pandered by a pope,
these poetic remedies,
analytic and terse,
give universal scope
to inform venality
its reflex tribalism
is damning the verse
to a cursed reality
of species insanity,
brutal and perverse.

We survive by breath
of moral practicality,
the afterlife seen real
as daydreams burst
and we long for a rest,
so why rush to deal
in the crooked banality
of competitive stress
after finding out first
that transcendent death
is soon to reveal
no need for excess?

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John Talbot Ross