Modern cities' skylines
add a peculiar title
to our civilization's
strangely routed curve—
which one random ad
from the FIFA World
Cup Final, 2026, US,
divulged at last to my eyes
in its blunt, randy act.
Old temples used to mirror
a cosmos writ down small;
then those temples
became banks
to run mankind's busy flow
through their books,
taking from each
toll and cut,
still donning
ancient garb.
But now they look—just plain
as mushroomed cemetery slabs,
meant to raze, to edge
the lots of mortal minds.
Underneath, they keep
an ever freshly watered ghost
whom the soccer ad revealed—
giving its finger
to everything in Heaven.
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