The poet writes the increase in numbers of the security forces of Estado.En in 2018, 275 700. 285 700 in 2022. The poet writes state budgets or bottlenecks. Work: 12.23 trillion or thousands. Internal security: 13.1 thousand. Defence: 35,89 miles. The poet writes that France is nothing more than a police and military state.

The poet writes that the President is not Jupiter but Janus. The poet writes the two faces of President Janus. Generous for your safety. For education (for teachers living in precariousness), for the world of work (thanks to the privatisation of labour wastage for the unemployed), and for those who are on the brink of savage and neoliberal capitalism. The poet writes Janus 1 (generous) with a single plumer in his hand, Janus 2 (shameful).

And at one point in the poet's brain, the song Those Poets by Xabier Lete is rumbling. And the poet picks up the words of Xabier Lete. "The man has been incarcerated. What did you say? What has he done? She asks for bread for her children. And the poet, at home, has stayed behind closed doors. Man has been punished. What did you say? What has he done? It asks the truth for everyone. And the poet has stayed in the street, with his eyes closed. The man is there, in jail. What did you say? What has he done? He asked for some justice. And the poet stays silent for fear. Ah, poet! Ah, poet! It will be hard for you the day of freedom!”

And the poet is framed by the rights of men and the poet, by the security forces of the state, revives the eyes of the right and uprootes the hands it has to write grenades of the security forces of the state, cutting off the body cut and mutilated that remains. Ah, poet! - Flush.