Budget time

The season of zonked flies
Trapped behind windowpanes
They fall into coffee cups
Loll in left over gravy on dinner plates
A last indulgence on dessert platters
Rolling over, legs up
Not dead yet but on the way
Gone brutally bonkers
No wriggling out of here

The season of little men
In their airless, heartless counting house
Meting out sneaky gifts
As worthless as glass beads
Ten dollars to the needy, the innocent
The blinkered and the gullible alike
Old rules dressed up in new garments
Appealing to the uncreative and
Self-righteous, narrow-minded kind

While Earth’s magma bulges at the edges
Through cracks and fissures in Hawaii
Abysses in Guatemala, geysers in Yellowstone
Spitting out lava, belching up mud
Spurting out Pacific Ocean water
But not a word in Canberra
No mention of climate change
Not a dollar spent on the real situation
Shaking up a storm around the globe.

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