Estelle's Writing

  A smoke of cigarette, and here he weeps And checks the blue-red arrow-mountains tall And watches the tumble of the Shares And sends another of his seeds To the hungry Savings god Cain’s altar holds a grand But Abel’s gain Triples that of Cain’s And here’s the thing, my lamb: The fruit of labour tastes as sweet as Eve’s, and half as cheap as weed The news presenter shares, Coiled around his brain Enables Cain And Abel’s stain Of blood and wool and half-sown grain To please the Boss in his throne of half-won pain And puts a curse upon the brother’s name, and Shares will soar And slither up around the tree of never-ending food and drink and tar and oil and more                   And Cain will lose                 And Abel too           ...