tom taylor - money stalks

money stalks

nothing real, you know, just a manner of movement
my sweat to your pocket with little in between to make
it ‘worth’ anything, a lesson of exchange you won’t forget
lining your hands with my blood sweat and fears for all

the equality of the exchange long since forgotten on the
wailing wall of inequity and the absence of forgiveness
for the familial hierarchy of them and us laid upon the land
like a smothering cloud or a huge black cloak covering all

with the holes poked for stars to ‘appear’ and the slight
movements within that darkness for some to escape and
most to drive themselves mad with trying to figure it out
and the lessons laid bare with no explanation for one and all