Beneath the Southern Cross, there lies a drawing board,
Where goats who trade in iron, coal, have seen their yield ignored.
Like rabbits in their wind-taut boroughs, woe is their new award,
In the Aussie market garden, the harvest is now poor'd.

In the land of dragon's breath, a hopeful turn's afoot,
Property, like patient snail, finds favor and bears fruit.
Defaulting dogs now barking loud, for 'White List' they salute,
Hong Kong rings with gleeful clatter, the creditors' dispute.

From Zion, hawkish messages, in Gaza they're enwrapped,
Beastly artillery and fire, like frightened hares are mapped.
A blockade, much like steadfast dog, has all resources zapped,
In a world of twisted shell games, peace's cloak is badly capped.

by Guillemette de Ventadour

a centaur