Greed is a rip in the soul.
The slow leak of the self
to the bondage of possession.
Freedom thrown away
for a bag of things
that press on the heart.
Hoarding is not greed.
I’ve known hoarders
that I’ve loved deeply.
They are empty people.
They are consumed by hunger
hiding themselves
in accumulations of loneliness.
The stingy are impotent,
unable to use what they hoard.
It is painful to see the agony
of their giving.
Their hidden anger.
The bill computed in everything
they do.
Life is quid pro quo.
Of these characters
greed is the pocket change of power,
a danger without boundaries.
I do not like the greedy.
They want what is not theirs.
They want nothing less
than the world’s freedom.
Let them sail to the ocean’s end
and claim shores nowhere
to be found,
never to be heard of again.