I live in the belly of the bully, And that bully is fat and bloated
after eating too much of everyone else’s food without permission. Although he had more than enough to eat and he wasn’t really hungry, he left his island home; and sailed the seven seas to fill his sacks, and bring things back. He pretended to pay, elbowing his way into, through and around their worlds, and because they did not speak English they did not understand his slippery words (and he didn’t learn theirs). With sleight if hand and cannon he subdued then sold their souls to some obscenely wealthy aristocrats back in his island home.
He pushed them into the fields to farm and when they could not lift their arms from starvation he said it was nature’s predestination, so he did not shed a tear and he did not interfere. The natural law was all he saw. That man was very fat and and he was very flawed.
Sean Hunt June 12th
This poem was inspired by a recent article I read about how Colonial England engineered famines in India that killed millions of people and stood by pointing to 'Nature' as their excuse for not stepping in, as was their excuse in Ireland. When the Queen of England heard that the French Queen was moved to make a donation towards the Irish famine three times as large as the Queen's she reminded them that this would be 'inappropriate' and insisted on the donation being reduced to the size of the English donation. The abominations of Britain on our planet need to be remembered as much as the Holocaust. Though I live in England and benefit from the Social Services that 'The Beast' is wealthy enough to provide, and I was born in Britain, my blood is all Irish.
