Un joven Marxista peludo
(mejor dicho: tirano barbudo)
adornó camisetas,
también pantaletas –
irónico chiste agudo.

Maldito malandro Guevara
alabado por voz y guitarra,
fue la gran obra-maestra
(pero no de la diestra)
y queda la pata con garra.

A Marxist Messiah named CHE
was mistaken (by night) for the Day.
Bringing light to the masses
(who wore their sunglasses)
the luminance faded away…

The image of CHE on a shirt
always triggers my right to assert
that the crime of the Left
is not property theft,
but Idolatry: blind and overt.

The communist rock-star Ernesto
never dreamed that his mug would be blessed so –
re-branded revision,
immune to derision.
Would history ever have guessed so?

The militant monogram CHE
was perceived as the herald of day-
from a murderous tyrant
to Christ-like aspirant:
reality withered away.