At a Banking Crisis

The houses of usury go to the wall.
The higher the fliers, the broader the sky
And gravity’s merely a force to defy.
How could they have known that their engines would stall?

The pilots are limping away from the crash.
The crimes they committed they stoutly deny
(The bolder the gambler, the bigger the lie);
And could we oblige with the loan of some cash?

Magnificent men in their money machines!
We feel in our pockets and fish out some change.
The ways of the Lord (that is Mammon) are strange;
And we’re all of us dead in the long run, said Keynes.

Listen to this poem — read by the author