Only broken childless shells
Wielding power impotently
Basking in neuro-chemical joy
Are yellow-bellied hoarders

Whose close circles shrivel
May never return to Earth
To join the common pursuit
Of those so humble pleasures

Leaving a choice: patria o muerte
Enlightenment or homeland
The awakening of all, for all
Smoke entering the void

Letters appearing on the page
The drafting of new ideals
Bricks of a political economy
Torrential showers of parallels

Similar to a clock dial
Caught in intra-perspective
Half prescriptive, half not
A face emerges in oils

Abiding by customs, yes
But central planning also
Failing cores meltdown
Bringing ideas with them