Gira Mundo Gira Mundo

This poem was inspired by a song by Manu Chao. It is about the phase of globalization we are in, and how culture is evolving.

Under us,

tectonic plate writhe.

Bad blood clumps among some.

Relationships shatter.

Old friends never speak again.


Overhead is a new day.

As the last had its heralds

so too today may.


Surface-side

jotting on his phone as he skates

around the shaft of the Americas,

a handsome son-of-Adam

writes some modern poetry 💪:


Eye muscle clenches🧐

What to say about times as these?

I guess, in a word:

Synthesis.


What was once magic—

now science, now creed.

What was once creed—

now magic,

and as always the preachers spew heavy:


🗣📢 “this, to me, is blasphemy.”


Peer away dude,

from your boring microscope.


Analysis is different. Just different.

Today we come together

all of the people

in our Babel of Ideas.

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Inspired by the Face-Tattooed Maori

If God exists he must be tatted.
After all,
what is a face tattoo
but a commitment to your faith?

The idea of an officials’ wet stamp
smushing paper
is an old one.

It relates to irrevocability.
It relates to visibility.
In a way,
even personal pride.

That was how they’d formalize
in olden times 👴
is what I mean to say —
even currency.