Imelda's Fall Poem by RIC BASTASA

the rooms of the old house in olot
closed, the sound of the sea so deafening
her blind masseur still comes here often
perhaps reminiscing always the past,

the indonesian goddess by the gate is headless
another god of the sea lost his left hand
the ex-president comes here using the people's submarine
as she dances the night away with her fourteen ladies

the Sto Nino inside a man-made cave lost his right eye
on another corner, stands St. Joseph with only one hand
the grandeur is lost
this place
there is nothing spectacular now
except the contempt
of power and abuse of people's trust
power is temporary

a bad memory lasts for a lifetime
she has fallen out of grace
everything in her room is locked
dusty,
only the rats and the cockroaches
now applaud her greatness

all her friends are gone
we do not know this place now
we are only reminded

and they always say
that the past need not be repeated
the sun sets finally
the orange hues are gone
and what comes next is the total darkness
of this place
once great
now in utter ruin

then we decided to move on
to the next place of our tourist destination