Pompeii

The rich men, they know about suffering

That comes from natural things, the fate that

Rich men say they can't control, the swell of   

The tides, the erosion of polar caps

And the eruption of a terrible

Greed among those who cease to be content

With what they lack when faced with wealth they are   

Too ignorant to understand. Such wealth   

Is the price of progress. The fishmonger   

Sees the dread on the faces of the trout

And mackerel laid out at the market   

Stall on quickly melting ice. In Pompeii

The lava flowed and buried the people

So poems such as this could be born.