We had conquistador ambitions.
Battle plans were made, but we had no troops.
Now we are aging generals, we still have no troops.
Maybe we were meant to do nothing but plot.
We had a cavalcade of ambitious, disruptive plans,
but none of them worked out.
The best one now
is to grow old together.
Let’s watch the sun go down
we’ll smoke and drink wine
move imaginary pieces
and comment on how things end.
Maybe that should have been the plan all along.