 |
| 2008 |
I have done the maths,
the world is doomed.
I am told my ancestors were
exploiters –
ticks,
the bloodsuckers.
They got land
and more land.
And then, lost it all
in 1990.
In middle of conflict,
a family of wood-cutters
bought our house.
They pulled apart the mud bricks and wood:
hundred year old deodar windows and doors.
A fortress in cement was built.
A sawmill in the middle.
I count the number of trees cut.
I have done the maths,
the world is doomed.
In Money.
What they paid us,
I now make in a month.
I run the maths on inflation.
Numbers hold.
I too shall build a fortress
I shall again count the number of trees cut.
-0-
