(written on 1 August 2006, upon the slashing of six zeroes from Zimbabwe’s bearer cheque currency)
Smoking halos of zeroes
Ascend from the torched pile of countless notes
We use now to kindle tinder memories
of being once
meaningless millionaires,
fanning a myriad layers of
false wealth at the hissing coals of
Poverty’s Hell;
its thick air choking and groping at our hope once more,
Our expired creation
Cremated
To barren wastes of lies and dust
through which we burrow our stung toes,
Asphyxiating,
Grating
at the mad heat of uncertainty
Uncertain
of sure ground in which to plant our dreams
Combusting
To budless seed.