​the glitterati feast,
neatly,

dismembered spirits,
salving consciences,

bidding to 

purchase redemption,
for continuing crimes,

that don’t make the headlines,
business as usual,
the glitterati,

lost in a fine-wine haze,
sparkling carats dazzling,
leaving the dregs behind,
as the 

blindness slowly slithers,

sinking talons,

gnawing at the bone,
while the sweaty, bloody,

the pained,

lost,

the far, far too many
batter and shatter,

hacking away,
deep beneath our gleaming golden Johannesburg city
for pieces of glittering stone

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