austerity

with juan still survivng against the jungial wave of poverty--his belt set on the 9th (the last) hole and his blanket a little less than an incubtor of warmth for his curling body. the minimalist, i guess, would just be another prophet for all of us to take the initiative to mark all our wallets and eat instant noodles. for some, the noodles still mean a fiesta, and instead eat a peso worth of crackers matched with a cup of rice. beggars by then may leave their street posts and flock wishing wells to reap coins endowed with hopes. hopes that would mean a thousand comet ages ere it happens. and the heads of offices i bet, will again come to compromise for another budget proposal with its credits pouring in their pockets. the last thing i know, a splurge for their necessitites cum luxuries.