Transversal
From thousands of miles
Foods travel and reach and feed the rich
And the poor next door
Are starving, to see
This transversal I hide
My face with shame
And indifference!
How can I blame
The game when I am a part of the same?
The flower and fruit of a mall culture!
My face dissipates
As a moon sits on it,
The moon with blemishes for centuries;
A moon as plain and simple and palatable;
A perfect geometric shape
As a tortilla!
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