Leaders of the global village
cruise snow-flecked streets and dream of pillage.
Presidents of nations and bosses of cartels
build trust at the country’s plush hotels.
The Swiss play host to guests with plenty
nouveau riches and cognoscenti
haute bourgeois, pop stars, fat cats
UN-sorts who pimp in spats.
They pamper them until they swell
with Grison beef and Appenzell –
as gnomic fingers on the purse
loosen strings that self-disburse.
The Nobel laureate, Forum Grandee
pay homage (though they cannot see)
to Switzerland’s neat and tidy hills
municipal gardens and dentists’ drills.
While in the boardrooms of the land
from Winterthur to Bern and Gland
money talks – and should you catch a sound
you might hear stifled cries from underground.
Comments about this poem (Davos business by Julian De Wette )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
William Ernest Henley
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings