Christopher Columbus was a good man
But as Bartholomew De Las Casas wrote
“The admiral (…) was so anxious to please the King that he committed irreparable
crimes against the Indians.”
“murder, murder” dictated Gold, in a sweet mephistophelian voice
And Columbus, obedient and earnest,
Complied.

“I will give gold enough to fill a room twenty-two feet long and seventeen wide, up to a
white line which is halfway up the wall,” said Atahualpa
with a stern look, negotiating his gold for his blood
Pizzaro’s mind drew mountains of gold covering Spain in Oro puro.
But across fragile promises the mephistophelian voice thundered:
“Burn, burn at the stake!”
In a final act of humiliation, Juan Santos Atahualpa
Died a good Christian
The iron garrote on his people
Never to be lifted.

Gold extracted from bodies piled over each other
Like limbless dolls in a human slaughter house
Gold extracted by living bodies from narrow shafts
Gold carried back into narrow shafts
On dead bodied
Never-ending travelling
Hallucinatory dance on mephistophelian rhythms
A chorus of whispers echoing from golden financial cathedrals
“More, more!”