Wednesday, April 16, 2025

Socialist Sonnet No. 189

The Great Game

 

In the Great Game every player’s a dealer,

All shuffling the pack and palming a few,

Each card-sharp coldly determined to screw

The others and become the scene stealer,

The one who will gamble all he has got,

By raising the stakes again and again

Until others throw in their hands, and then

Laugh in their faces as he scoops the pot.

Very few play, but everyone loses

For as long as we allow this charade:

The name of the game? International trade.

Unless the great majority chooses

To close capital’s casino, and regard

The world improved without any Trump card.

 

D. A.

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