21 August, 2012


The Capital is even, like all the Capitals,
with its grandiose palace and Rafael portraits
that mock the poor and tire out the wealthy.
The Sun, made from manchego, manages
to politely illuminate both halves of the population.
The streets remain silent and bare, closed
Windows and missed opportunities leave all underwhelmed.
The weary sit, resting their feet and heavy tongues,
drenched in overpriced saliva and boring tempers.

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