The ghostly superstructure reared up in front of you
from the time that the expropriated peasant
was turned into money.
From the time that the city became freedom’s grave
and the usurer fattened on the farm
and the mortgaged fences.
All this grew more defined until one night
the structure of death reared up in front of you
disinheriting you:
the inevitable and determined one
who set out in the most beautiful urban evening
with a sickle in his hand.