Cain and the Stock Exchange

 

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

                And God will think

                That it is good.

- Estelle, March 2022