he will tear it down himself
the robots! the robots! the mud-made robots!
each one he sends off into the jungle
with a fig-leaf for a heart
and another for modesty

“ah, yes, fair senorita,” he says,
“i built these walls myself
but now i must go to market”

these words seem strange,
even as he whispers them softly
on the way to market

“to build – the walls – i tear –
my hair – fair senor…
i shall build whatsoever i choose
whereosever i choose
and i shall build the walls myself –

on the way to market…”

and so he did, after a fashion –
not the fashion of the aztec

“senor! i show you their ancient temples!”

THE ROBOTS!

“ah, at last i see!” he exclaims
“to build to build to market i go!
a mud-brick cage, a wooden temple!”

an indian temple
delays and pirate ships
the rivers flow with gold
he will write to his brother

“i shall cross the chasm myself
if you find it so wide!”

“of course, before the ones
before me there was another
but senora, i should say
they were dead before I arrived!

“ah, imagine my own family:
i shall rebuild them all!
and heaven:
i will tear it down myself.”