Petrodollars
Wake up shattered
with bad news splattered
across the headlines,
the world’s deadline
as its hopes lie in tatters
with the continuation
of the transformation
of the sea into plastic
and the forest into sand
and the animals into memory
while the dollars exchange hands
and get sent offshore;
tax nicely evaded.
No answers needed
when no questions are asked.
Who needs a fucking conscience
when the blood-soaked petrodollars
slip so easily
into slimy outstretched palms?
My Words, My World 
