***
The dogs of the finance that cut
this brain
as if made of cardboard in nothingness
convinced that the wars, the
carnages must
not cease at least for a moment they
shall
defraud and betray, shall
sacrifice the stupid
guys, the patriots they shall drive
a fire
into their belly and broken
stones into their
head never visited by ideas and
they shall
make them pork cracklings with
bombs
with uranium that make an endless
carpet
of fire from which nothing is
edible neither
the nose nor the lips, no longer
do the corpses
exist but only cinders and ashes –
but when
the war gives up the ghost the
moneys remain
in the bank vault of the financiers
and they
laugh with the foam at their mouth
in the bunkers at the first hours
of the morning
if by any chance some atomic blaze
like a pink,
incandescent flower, white ghosts
didn’t gush
forth. The dogs of the finance bring
out a precious
stone made of carbon that still
attacks our heart
and our conscience – far from the
killers of yesteryear.
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