Beggar's will

  

It has imposed itself on everything,

 and everything is now a rotten

 vomit because it has seen itself.

 Moving beneath the surface,

 cocktail-swilling, champagne-swilling

 V.I.P. exclusive evenings, 

insidious snake hisses, double entendres,

 universal sunken rot.

 Career graveyards at a loss become

 compulsive shapeshifters

 in pursuit of larger goals, looting dreams.

 In addition to a carefree lifestyle,

 it is necessary to take on grief

 and dirt with a straight face.

 Sooner or later, even the absolute

 winners will be driven out

 of the race by the victors.

Only Death can bring comfort and consolation.

 To body and soul, one by one, 

it now offers the semblance of equality.

 - Daily shedding their reptilian-veined skins,

 the Janus-like Angels, saints, 

pretending prophet-greats.

 Whose daily ruined lives they ruin

 - They notice nothing but the virtue,

 if it pops, or if they lack the necessary

 sum To preserve the ruins

 of their sham happiness.

It may be that everything has long

 since been decided according

 to the suggestion of self-interest.

 Perhaps, with a little effort,

 petty kings and loyalty stooges 

could stay afloat in economic

 life-and-death struggles,

 bargaining even at the cost

 of their miserable lives to serve

 the legitimate institutions

 of cheap lies like prodigals:

 to dream is folly.

But for now, surely, it is better for many

 to bellow, to bend their heads and shout,

 to bang others' heads against the wall,

 shouting democratic slogans

 - the respectable historical chronicle

 will record this too, falsified, 

but people will have no trace

 of it when the moral balance has cooled!