THE TRUTH ABOUT VENEZUELA'S SOCIALIST UTOPIA

imagine a darkness something darker and
scarier than the deepest parts of the
ocean darker than that awful darkness of
space the darkness of night a house
shackled by darkness because there isn't
any electricity and there hasn't been
for months but then again that's not the
dark I'm talking about the real dark is
the dark part that lives inside of you
the things that you now have to do on a
daily basis just to stay alive around
the corner you hear the beast you'll
shouts from a Caracas jail the prisoners
have taken over at least that's what you
hear they feel they can do a better job
of controlling themselves than whoever
has been doing it lately it was a
hundred years ago that this country was
lavished in wealth not too long ago you
two were rich you were healthy in that
chubby 19th century Russian diplomat way
you ate well he probably ate too much
black turtle beans and fried bananas
asado Negro you truly thinking of the
tender shredded beef and the carrot and
oregano tinged broth you strode through
steak houses on special occasions you
ate t-bones like a Texan you you drank
Chilean wines Malbec from Argentina
occasionally a glass of cognac not
because you were a drunk but because you
could because you enjoyed the sprouting
goodness that life had to offer man that
life it seemed like it was never gonna
end now lookee yourself here are a bag
of bones
bones jutting out like false teeth at
times you think about all the energy you
waste just breathing what happened
now you can barely afford a single egg
one egg eggs that fall out of the
backsides of chickens and I can't afford
it your mouth Quivers of the thought of a Friday tender so tender it pops open
which is the prod of a fork losing unto
the fried papaya and rotisserie chicken
you've lost 120 pounds since it all
started going to hell and now you're in
it firmly you weren't rich you were
middle class lower middle class even
that's just how good things used to be
although there was always the
cinderblock hobbles that you can see
from the plane as you land in Caracas
now it is spread the office where you
used to work as an accountant it's now
empty abandoned overtaken by squatters
people like you who lost everything
who limp a little more each day toward
their death men all in black now patrol
the streets with shotguns black
bulletproof vests and black tarp like
shirts and black pants black military
boots people hamper cars in the street
because there's nowhere to go nothing to
do gasping a bit the arrests below a
crucifix statue the left tilting head of
Christ and blazoned and a soft and sad
light the burnished rise of daylight
breathing into a new day looking at
Christ perhaps for the first time you
understand suffering
you understand his defeated look the
look of hopelessness and violence and
death the hopelessness of surrendering
and surrendering until it stops
mattering you hope you have that one
hope left that all things will change
but you really hope that just anything begins to change
it was also promising at the beginning
everybody was going to be able to live
the high life and now only a handful are
and they are the ones that live behind
the gates this you think to yourself
this is the socialist utopia they
promised all of us as Venezuelans as you
sit there under the statue you begin to
replay it all in your mind and wonder
where are all those Americans those
celebrities those from Hollywood that
praised our leaders and helped convince
us that this was the road to prosperity .I wonder what they're eating tonight