The Markets Are Down

Banish the hubris,
Toss away the choice words
Spoken by rotten, broken tongues.
Silence the chorus of appalled shock.
Shred the sermons,
Burn down the gory edifices:
The churches, mosques, temples
And the muted Gods they mock.
Drain the sewage.
Flush away the insidious odour
Seeping up from malls, homes, carnivals.
Put it in a closet and weld the key in the lock.
Shut it all off.
Turn out the lights.
Pull the damned plug.
But hold on to that blue-chip stock.

About Afzal Moolla

Afzal Moolla was born in Delhi, India while his parents were in exile, working as anti-Apartheid activists for the African National Congress.  Afzal subsequently travelled wherever his parent's work took them. He still feels that he hasn't stopped travelling.  Afzal currently works and lives in Johannesburg, South Africa and shares his literary musings with his most strident critic - his 12 year old cat.

Leave a Reply