where is the word hiding

among these four-square columns,

thrusting their sacrifice

of unblemished building

to Mayan sky twice betrayed?

what is the word wanting

in pointless processions

of plates once white,

without protest smeared

by wealth’s gluttonous colours?

who is the word grieving

silent and smiling

sweeping and sinking

’neath chores fit for a king,

in the kingdom of

mundane and monotonous and mindless?

why is the once wise word weary

from demands of an other

whose random rhythms rumble

in greed’s cacophonous ensemble,

its whitenoise hunger baying

in the long night of Cancuntopia?