On frost-sharp nights in this northern town
little can be seen in the broad, black sky,
only Selene, pale and serene, sailing above
circumnavigating the starless night.
Where have they gone, those uncountable stars
that gave no light but delighted our eyes
with their myriad patterns. Once nights were
made magic by stories they told and the
secrets they hold of long ago heroes.
Here was a monster, there the twin princes,
a girl bearing water, a winged white horse.
Nobody owned them, they belonged to all
but now they are gone, none can see from here
The Plough, Great Bear, the Belt of Orion
or The Dog Star, and so we must wonder
who raided the sky and stole all our stars.
Was it George Soros, maybe Al Qaeda,
did venture capitalists play a part?
Has Donald Trump paid a gang to move them
and free up the space for a brand new resort?
Or was the culprit international markets,
dealing in futures and traded options
working towards global hegemony.
Trade will always prize wealth above beauty,
encourage greed to grow like a cancer,
trade would not care about stealing our stars,
and with them the essence of what we are.
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Government By Fear And Panic
Let Down By Hope
Wind Of Change
Ten 4 Ten
Feel The Burn
Who Stole The Stars
On The Cusp
Ian Thorpe at Gather