I just saw the face of defeat two times,
not my own, of course, but one more tragic,
fixed in the heart of this land, its laws, crimes,
and credos: therein lies the black magic:
More frankly, there is a status panic,
amongst the nominal "joes" that conflate
an image of wealth with worth so basic,
that they lose conception of joys innate:
Giving light to consumption as culture,
the hollow hagiographies of past
appropriations–heads down like vultures,
soaring with no ground to break the fast:
I saw the two-time face first look away,
then chunk a deuce, lost–an "urban" display.

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