de Juan Idiazabal


The soul of China is at stake,

down with the old,

up with the new,

bricks turned into dust,

dust turned into bricks,

start all over again.


The green fields,

the smoggy sky,

the shiny new cities,

the dusty old towns,

Mercedes Benz racing down bicycles

on the highway;

rumbling domino pieces lined down to fall,

Modern Era has come to China,

industrial wastes,

corbeau jade tainted rivers,

brand new cellphones

spitting at WeChat.


A dragon

watches its subjects raise/demise,

chasing the dragon(’s tail to sniff it)

Modernism consumes nations

in the penetralia of China,

the partocracy people are building their

tomb, one brick at the time,

thousands of years ago,

they used to build walls,

the ghost cities of the future

are being built, here,

right now,

one little old dusty forgotten memorial brick at the time…

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