The poor cannot be punished too many times for the crime of being poor. It's the last vestige of original Sin.


Five years ago, i published this poem in 100 Poets Against the War. As it is becoming a little hard to find on the internet, i am printing it again here:

    "Christendom"

there was once a king
a stupid king
son of a king

and he ruled a great empire
greatest of his time
and a pious king was he

so pious
he wanted to punish
everyone that didn't believe

and he made a department
to spy on his own people
this pious king

but it was war he loved
constant war
war with no object

he made war till he exhausted
the wealth of this richest empire
he ruined his country

to utter bankruptcy
and it became
the most backward country in Europe

and after this king
whose name was Phillip the Second
a Golden Age of art & literature

was snuffed out
like it never existed
and it was three hundred years

three hundred years
till Spain produced anything good again


Or as the old guys liked to say, sic transit gloria mundi...


(PS apologies to those who actually are from Spain--it's a beautiful country i've always wanted to visit--but parables are parables.)