Aisle Of Paradise Poem by Gianni Pansensoy

See those coals,
they are getting dark to dark,
sweating blue while sitting
on charcoal grill,
their fumes of purple smog,
darkened by your deceit.

Their fire is blistering,
flaming with hatred on their eyes,
burning the bleeding steak till black,
you devour it madly with gusto,
sauced blood with mushroom still dripping
around the corners of your mouth,
wash it with red wine and cream sauce,
wipe it with decaying linen cloth,
while they feast on hunger,
their intestines are filled with air
that sings violet death,
and revolting in violence.

You're such a political fairy tale,
of flying wings with lies
and stealing hands,
a mobster walking on the aisle of fantasy,
and of fake promises,
converting the whole of a country
into a paradise,
a beautiful paradise,
infested with greed,
made of slums swimming on naked water,
infected with mosquitoes,
dying in malaria and sweet dengue fever,
and sleeping on hunger that lasts
until forever.