Here is both a howl and a hymn;
a clever lamentation soaked
in satire and righteous indignation.
It treads the comic edge of poetic injustice,
railing against the vultures in wolf’s garb
who see art not as soul-work,
but as leverage, a means to pecuniary ends.
With its brisk rhyme and biting wit,
it reminds us that the poet’s struggle
is not just existential, but economic,
a fight to own what is made of breath and ink.
Behind the laughter and the lyrical punchlines
lies a sharper truth: to write is to survive
the very world that tries to commodify
the voice that dares to speak.
It stings and sings at once
and no one could accuse this poet of going quietly.
Thanks for speaking out against the outrage
of scammers and spammers and the like.
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