Democracia Father was a tiger Ground beneath the wheels His fat was burned to light a torch But there’s no liberty here Only the ashes of the village That couldn’t evolve Where ghost grandchildren play with ghost grandparents And the parents are nowhere to be seen at all. Where have they gone? Where have they gone? A delay of a day for an idea, a delay of a lifetime for the dead upon the ground. Look, what remainsThis hut hasn’t the ambition of Ozymandias These craters were once a rice field This ox was no man’s enemy And what we have left to say could explode any minute.
59