What Does Corporate Greed Look Like?

I have this thought about twice a year, usually in the colder months.  Is there any greater visual representation of corporate greed than this?


What the fuck is up with that?  I don’t really feel like speculating, but I’m pretty sure it has something to do with rich, white, old fucks.  Just thought I’d share.


Tim Hatch lives in a secret volcano headquarters somewhere in the South Pacific, where he controls the world economy and writes confessional poetry about his disappointing childhood.

His poetry has been published in MungBeing, East Jasmine Review, The Pacific Review, The Vehicle, Touch: The Journal Of Healing, Apeiron Review, and he is the recipient of the 2014 Felix Valdez Award.

He finds writing about himself in the third person to be an overtly seductive invitation to tell lies.

He once captured a French Eagle at Talavera.

Tagged with: