The Dauphin Without a Crown
The destruction of a legacy.
It was the English romantic poet Percy Bysshe Shelley who wrote about a traveler he met from an ancient land.
The traveler said:
“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand, half sunk a shattered visage lies...”
Today, the traveler would be every single Puerto Rican on planet earth; the trunkless legs - they belong to Governor Ricardo Rosselló.
After 10 days of protests, Rosselló, the son of ex-governor Pedro Rosselló - at whose feet he learned everything he knows about politics - refuses to step down as Puerto Rico’s governor.
Almost a million people are taking to the streets of the capital - and across the island - demanding The Dauphin has got to go.
But much like Ozymandias, who believed himself King of Kings, Rosselló refuses to let go of what he feels he is entitled to.
In what is now known as Rickygate, he - along with his ridiculous gang of cohorts - insulted Puerto Rican women, the beloved singer Ricky Martin, made fun of our dead after Hurricane Maria, and verbally spat on all Puerto Ricans by writing that he could even fool his own people. His phrasing was a bit different.
That was the last straw. The people not only spoke, but they also marched, protested, banged pots and pans, wrote songs, sang them, came out with the most artistic and creative protests I have ever seen, danced and cried one unified mantra: Ricky Renuncia.
Yet The Dauphin, alone in his version of Versailles, refuses to budge.
But, as befell Shelley’s Ozymandias, (although not at the hand of La Generación de Benito), all that will be left of Rosselló’s legacy will be a head without a crown and two trunkless legs.