Daniel the Insane

Daniel the Insane Dortega decrees to blatantly strip the decisive documentation of various -two hundred?- divine givers of the document and daily saying.

Daniel the Demented does not know the destinations of the exile, from below the Devil ignores diatribes and debates that should break the daily harshness of his dictatorship.

Demented, decrepit and faded, Daniel Dortega doubles diopters and scatters demonic fingers;

he says to decide where he roams demolition, desolation and evictions... worthy duende of pain.

Daniel el Demente in a duet with Damisela Delirante have insulted and demolished, collapsing but not subduing dense democracy that will awaken, uncovering dikes, dimes and bickering where the diabolic, weakened and defeated duet will decidedly decide its decline.

Dani Dortega and Dosario Durillo, diamond maze of dodecaphonic dictatorial dementia in delirious decibels of distracted spills, digital doubloons and sweet or naked destructive self-confidence.

Declares Daniel the Insane to accrue weakened rights, derogating due decency, to say gut or dissect or dissect dithyrambs and give it a go, unfortunately destabilizing, giving as a gift the dagger and its defeat, hard-hard-hard, disarming by decree or deformation of the Right and determinant: from their awakening and in their daily pantry, those stripped or banished by Finger of Daniel the Insane give grace and pour out detail by detail the givens of God, the declaration and decantation of descriptions and flashes, stripping speeches and pouring out diaries, saying and drawing, wandering and hurting disdaining his Where.

Darío would say how blessed he is who knows no pain due to his hardness... I say, we say and say daily: Daniel the Demented, stop!

Gioconda, Sergio and millions of Nicaraguans carry their homeland and landscape on their skin and thoughts, their poems and pure prose in their hair and eyelashes, their palpitation comes from past tenses and paves the promised future... promising, because I allow myself to exchange words and go to the capital P to clap each page of poets and prose writers, people who are not putrid and pusillanimous characters like you, President Pendejo.

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