BLIND BANKING

Financing evil and asking no questions

I’m paid to keep quiet!

 

My silence is their

Treasure, hidden from prying eyes.

Those movers and shakers, who use soiled

Hands, trust their finance with me.

 

I’m the blind banker

In his steel-vault,

Counting out what’s his by right,

And loaned for a timeless while

To so-called crooks and knaves

With kid gloves and ill-fitting suits,

 

As you judge them to be,

 

With doubtful proofs of evil acts,

To link them in their guilt

With piles of splintered corpses

On second-hand, ingrained prints -

 

Not my concern!

 

Just

For the morbid and curious,

And I am neither.

 

The interview is now at an end,

No more to say!