The Poet

In the land of Chile,
Sharp fanged assassins
Crawl through their slime
To slowly creep
Around Chile’s pumping heart.

Vipers of death, deceit, and decay
Coil your entrails around liberty’s
Gasping breath.

As these gray ghouls
Attempt to murder ideas
By burning books,
The Great Moral Giants of the world
Speak out:
“Fascism in the defense of corporations
Is no vice; there is no greater virtue
Than raping in the name of freedom.

And so, the World Bank awards millions to fascists
For the preservation of freedom.
For the sake of peace,
Let’s teach old torturers
New ways to burn, shock, and maim.

And so, the fat prince of Washington
Squats in his capital,
As the red blood of Chile
Gushes through the streets.
Hey! Fat prince,
Ask yourself,
For whose security
Are you fucking
The world’s human rights?

Fools, Fools, Fools!
Do you not know?
Once the seed of liberty
Has been planted in blood.
It shall always sprout forth again.
Surely our harvest will come.
For tyrants can never abort freedom;
They can only delay its birth.