TROPIC OF CANCER

I have not forgotten the speed of July nights
The way they drip beneath the wet Moon
Whose lips are of a swan beneath the light

The secrets of July dreams that whispered
Sluggish mysteries of the past’s desires
The magic world, where cities turned on end

When all machines came alive as if by singularity
In an intricate network of hideous technology
Progress once made, loosened forever

The man who made a miracle in virtual reality
For an intelligence that would guide the century
They who will inherit the Earth’s resources

I have not forgotten the unfruited summers
Where a few profit by the price of oil
Or the Sun that warmed the Earth uprooted

The secrets of the storms off the coast of Japan
Or the way the Media neglected certain topics
Leaving to our children’s children
A more manipulated, dangerous, and corrupt world.