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Fascination of fools


(BY: CLEM M. BASCAR) The taste of power intoxicates the conscience
polluting reason as well; like the paralyzing smell
of rotting garbage in our brains

Still the gypsie monarch keeps his ego sparkling
like diamonds on the palms of angels; obsessively
fantasizing eternal reign

Dreams of slaves don’t mean anything
they dissipate as quickly  as they are conceived; only the Lion
of Castile has the right to power and the luxury
of playing the lyre in harmony with  fire

Liberty has become the shared fascination of the dumb
supremely wallowing in the opulence
of dispair; ritually in constant romance
with nothing but the addictive aroma of indigence

Yet only the dead has the courage to complain
about the decay of silence in his grave
and the skunkwork built for his rest
in union, the fools sing hymns

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