Pigs

by Mick Beville

Moneyed faces sprightly marching

Onward to their tomb

The curse of mechanistic measure

Shuttle crosses loom

"Consume" the drum is beating boldly

The rent mans at the door

Luddites cry in futile gesture

Young men go to war

Yet somewhere far across a field

Beneath a timeless sky

A simple soul reflects in wonder

At pigs inside a sty

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