COWBOY CARGO
Lock down
round town,
Mask on
Task done
Walk round
Down town.
Some birds
Are heard.
Kid cries,
“Say hi!”
No reply,
No sound
All round,
Nothing but the rumble of the blood phosphate ship
Lock down
Drowns sound
Can’t hear
Saharan fear.
Then the noise
Of local boys,
“Economy!
GDP!
Conspiracy!
Me! Me! Me!
Feed the nation!
Watch inflation!”
Deafening din
Ignoring sin,
Saharan grief
From local thief
All deafened by the groans of the blood phosphate ship.
Disgorging slavery
Spewing knavery
To pass more grass
Through bovine ass.
Saharan screams
Enter streams.
We won’t think
Of what we drink
While we dance to the pulse of the blood phosphate ship.
– Juliet Neill