They came from far and wide
to see the dream that died
the empty banking shells
above the Havelet swells
the tourist, eyes aghast
senses something has passed
he sees crumbling monuments to the greed
that replaced normal need
before the vision all turned sour
when its snake oil bitcoin power
turned everything to dust
because the value was less than cost
behind a street of dead boutiques
shining like valueless laliques
stand the rows of empty hutches
far beyond the proles' clutches
the lights are permanently dark
just like the silent data park
they are greeted by the guide
welcome to the museum, come inside
here capitalism is in the past
and the streets are clean at last
the squares and abandoned piers
have been washed with the donkey's tears
Donald Keyman
