a white coat worn well
over a portfolio
stained with nicotine.
he speaks of our health.
his money works the night shift
in a cigarette.
the ted talk ends.
the applause becomes the sound
of a cash register.
a drop-out's advice
weighed more than a thousand years
of traditional wisdom.
the foundation's seal
stamped on a box of aid, and
on a crate of guns.

two screens glow softly.
on one, a smiling child's face.
on one, a stock chart.
they call it a gift.
the fine print asks for your data,
your land, your future.
a speech on clean air.
the private jet idles on
the tarmac below.
a moral paradox
wrapped in a philanthropic
shell. the nut is rotten.
the grant proposal
writes itself in the language
of the annual report.

the syringe is full.
the subject line is empty.
a deal is closing.
a continent's pain
is the proving ground for his
newest algorithm.
the vaccine trial
finds its most willing subjects
where hope has been starved.
a carbon credit
bought from the same oil well
he owns a piece of.
he solves for "disease."
the variables are profit,
control, and market share.

the doctor's white coat
cannot hide the shareholder's
bloodless, cold hands.
the virus of greed
masquerades in the clothing
of its own cure.
he champions life.
his dividends are paid in
a steady, slow death.
a new kind of king.
his crown is made of goodwill.
his scepter, pure force.
the drop-out is out.
but he dropped into a system
he now defines.