To Mexico City

Dashing and dainty, The Dapper Lady rambled
Mexico City, with the intent of instilling fear.
Tequila in hand as if to feast,
she forgot of her resolve,
and, instead, took a stroll.

Here, she found a city: upbeat, jolly and gay.
Infused she was, with all its dance, laughter and parade.
With all she remained passionately fascinated,
and refused to turn back to her grave,
For with Mexico City she had been infatuated!

Death roamed on Sunday
only to find The Front at work.
She told Alejandra, Dante and Ricardo:
Mexico’s time has come.

A change of course is what Mexico needs,
death consents to with the cheerful attendees,
“Let’s finish with corruption from the ruling party”, they declared
as Mexicans yearning was finally conferred.

Enrique Peña Nieto believed early on
he was the savior of his people thereupon.
He gave the impression of an agent of change
with tricks of smoke and mirrors he arranged.

He turned out to be an awful nightmare
of violence and corruption beyond compare
The crown of indecency he now bears
and to the graveyard he will return
with a glut of votes
from a nation which has had enough.

Death remained attentive
to the shaping of a certain Front
that was quite the talk
for all the kids on the block
were just seizing the moment,
and remained by The Dapper Lady taunted.

There you’d find the rouge himself
keeping all his wealth in the shadows,
while a hackneyed other avoided arrows
and came closer through explanation
of how a mortgage paid for her Miami accommodation.

The Grim Reaper laughed to death and said:
“You’re Front will bite the dust,
and soon you’ll join that someone
in the land where you give up the ghost!”

They sleep in this burial, the city streets,
as Death retaliated with jauntiness and buoyancy
through tally earthquakes of grim coincidence.

All things considered, reason prevailed
And Death with mounting solidarity was leveled
They all came to the reunion:
Federal Police and Protection Services,
Felons and the whole of the Security Commission
Honoured the name of the Ministry of Interior

Two years ago, they say,
threatening Death
with a thundering voice declared:
Every congressmen caught off guard
to the cemetery I will cart
and into oblivion they will stand.

The ruling party’s deputies,
eagerly completed their duties, and in both commissions and plenary sessions
their names showed up
with outstanding impressions.

Nobody knows for sure
if this was plain terror,
or persuasion,
of dying in the graveyard
and missing the ballots
of next year’s general election.

Self composed Day of the Dead rhyme

There was Zoé Robledo quite delighted
When a Hillary T-shirt he was granted.
Poor senator, he hadn’t fully regarded
That by putting it on, Death he had invited.

There was Zoé Robledo quite excited;
He thought on top of the poll he had landed
When a regeneration Reaper appeared beside him
And said: “Poor man, you are so misguided.”

There was Zoé Robledo giving a speech
The Belisario medal to a woman, that’s the thing!
Death came: give it to me! It beseeched.
Poor Zoé, he was frightened beyond reach.

Poor Zoé Robledo, he was weary
He went out and each time Death was ready.
3-of-3, abide by the law already!
Death listened and held steady.

For your overconfidence I came to collect you in Chiapas,
For your hastiness I came for your soul at the Senate,
3 out of 3 you wanted, how dare you!
Well, 3 out of 3 times with me I’ll take you.

For once Death
took fright, as Toledo
sketched her with a single finger
and sent her to prison.

From now on
she refrains from any human claiming
serving time as she is, without complaining:
long live the artist!

“Piojo” Herrera was more than confident
The title in the end would’ve been his accomplishment.

After all, Mr. Brizio told him:
“Rest easy, to the America, I’ll spare the beating.”
This didn’t escape Death’s hearing
Offended, it sealed the coach’s fate jeering;
It said: “Come, Miguel. I’m not the Cruz Azul to give away the crown
Even if you’re Azcarraga’s most cherished son
Today, for sure, he’d wish you were gone”
Because not even with her slaps la Pioja can cool Death down.

Irked Death roamed,
as banks refused to lend her some money:
¡Darn bankers, I’ll see you are gone!
Fintech and Condusef will throw the first stone.
Without delay, Death’s first victim was collected
and left Interacciones at the graveyard wedged.

Now characters by the name of Hank and Rojo
pave the way for a cobbled road
where Death can tour for long,
while from Banorte they present as offering
all banks with BBVA for their topping.

Death was more than tired of Donald Trump and all his bragging
Even Death feared him, the American claimed jeering.

That all his threats were fake news, and his word was law
The Reaper came and took him, and in a graveyard dumped him
Surrounded by the beautiful wall he’d always talk about
The tycoon now regrets with more prudency he didn’t behave.thread
Too late did he learn, you cannot mess with Death.

Silvia laughs at Death:
as it’s just a thread.
Universe lies at her feet
inside out.
Stars are her realm,
While of cosmos she’s at the helm.

Silvia, of universe empress
with galaxies she is blessed.
Even if Death should reach her
no tapping on stars will it earn.

Through all corners of the world,
Death bemoaned the gorgeous one.

Keeping all in her grave except for a man
who would leave you speechless anytime.

Afar she heard Eduardo Yáñez cry
and rushed to the red carpet to stand by
as a reporter eager to inquire:
“He may be the one I’ve been looking for!”
said Death as she saw how Yáñez left everyone sore.

Reporter Death asked for an interview in the beyond
but an irked Yáñez sent Death straight….away
Death had no choice but to slash his whimper
and took him to her graveyard to say: “You are now gorgeous in temper!”

“Frida” couldn’t take it any longer and hit the sack
after the good work she put to the earthquake task,
she resolved to keep Death in good company.

“I’ve fulfill my duty”,
said Frida with her boots on.
“Let’s go to rest”, barked the Labrador,
while a dismal Navy was left next door.
“Rest Frida, you’re achievement remains the best we’ve seen”
said the sorrowful sailors at sea.

Going through its data, Death was one fine day,
figuring out with how many numbers it could dispense.
Engrossed in its task, Death pensively thought:
“Of employment claimed by so many terms
even I would’ve had enough.”

Then unemployment fell and asked in awe:
What am I doing dead if I kept in good health?
Did statistics deliver me such a terrible blow?
Death promptly clarified, willing to throw it a bone:
“With so many formal jobs, even Social Security fell short;
despite being in the red, employment has won.”

And thus they spent the night, going over their lesson:
“It’s best to have benefits
than a stand on the streets, my suggestion.
This is how you lay the groundwork, no pressure,
for a better future to offer with some due protection.”

Leisurely Death was taking a stroll
When the ground shook it to its very bones.

From beneath rubble and dust,
Dozens of souls to Heaven rose.

To the streets the young ones flocked
And to Death they delivered a blow.

Yet the stubborn Reaper nimbly sought
the only dead missing down below.

In hiding again, its fear cloaked,
the ineffective government
for dealing its cards, its life lost.

Quite happy were the political parties,
buying votes left and right
until the Pale Death came for all,
and ended their vicious plan.

Mournful about not winning more campaigns,
Death brought down their entire charade.
Only teeth and bone from them remained
And the vote to the independents went.

That’s one giant leap for democracy.
Now, without the money of the majority
as eternal corruption source and commodity
Political parties from the underworld won’t enforce their authority
Nor continue with their “wholesale” vote-buying policy.

Only through cheating they won elections,
To benefit from the public works inspections,
The voters taught them important lessons,
and their votes of the Mexican Republic came to the rescue.

and of the Mexican Republic their votes came to the rescue.

The Reaper took them for being thus corrupted,
And in so doing, the independents he supported.

A smug Anaya wanted to be cemetery owner and undertaker all at once,
And to an early grave he sent himself when inside a tomb he fell.

There he met Death, which with a wide grin said: “in life, Anaya, you can’t be both
a self-seeker and a swindler.

Your greediness led you to the front of the Front, but here you’ve faced me head on.”

They say they were five,
Rebels by name they were called,
Death with amusement watched,
While Anaya their final moments foretold.

One night the Reaper found them
And took the five for a dance.
Now Anaya laughs unabashed
But Death has found out.

Death looms and sings nearby a nopal bush
It takes with her all Godzillas, locks and fines
Parking system is no more,
Death said… you’re done!

Forget about your presidential chair and took Mancera along.

MORENA Congressmen
Faced the challenge
To refine the budget
Deemed pernicious
by the Peña administration

No more gasoline hikes
A buddy of mine heralded:
We’ve had it up to here!
following painful blows to our pockets

With a change of government,
We await on the General Election,
before we become dirt-poor and
meet hell instead!



Political party created in 2011, known as National Regeneration Movement which translates into MORENA in Spanish

Death arrived to Los Pinos
to seize a lifetime pension.
Upon failing to find Calderón,
she took back to the wilderness,
eager to find Vicente, instead
and buy herself a November bouquet
with the president’s lifetime pension

Once upon a time, Death
came across Ernesto Zedillo
a prominent scoundrel
brought by Salinas into Los Pinos

Days went by,
and poor Death upon starving
got a fritter treat
from president Echeverría too

She then headed to the Congress,
Irked as she was
for all the presidents’ squandering,
to support the #presidentswithoutalifetimepension bill!

Mexico City gazed
at the cheerful faces in cabinet
having its candidacies cheerfully haggled,
Until Death had them to hell summoned .

Shards of dreams they search instead,
crushed beneath slabs and myrrh,
within the tasty bread of the Death
left were they with bones stirred.

Death was bored, drowning in slumber
when she experienced an earthly tremor
“Drowned in work” I’ll be instead,
and off to Tlalpan found Sheinbaum at the head,
Peje’s protege immediately surfaced:
“I’ve got all papers in order”, and produced a verdict.
Ruthless Death had her argument shipwrecked
And away with her to hell she vented:
“Real estate cartels will burn in hellish flames
with a two level highway launched along the way!”

Death then to her chopper took,
and landed in Monreal’s condoned helipad
to experience demolition news in irked mood,
while the former skewed “The candidacy is mine!”
Candidacy to hellhole land for you it is,
Death said back given his rule decrease.

Through Tláhuac and Xochimilco Death also roamed
with Rigo and Evelino to hell she homed.
Demons denounced in discontent:
“We may be demons but still with name and fame,
for this public servants cracks will serve well”
Resigned Death left them behind
and with the Ojos and Peje to them she pilled.

Tired Death to Azcapotzalco landed
“Who’s this lands master?” he asked
while a local answered:
“A Mr. Moctezuma, much smaller and idle”
and hasty Death to Morena’s tzompantli
she had him roll.