Oh What monstrous natural deformity are you…
Who with uttered words wallows me!
in seas of nostalgia,
as if the sheer tune of your engulfing speech,
attuned in me! a weather forecasting radar.
That with an umbrella in right hand,
And boots in my feet,
your feign droplets of deception
slip past my clothes.
That with a coat and a lit-candle in left hand,
I’ll hear your drops, blip plink splash
songs onto the gullible asphalt
of these empty roads.
In the sewers
of these grandiose and splendid cities,
Streaming in, will be your words.
Written by: L.L.
October 3, 2014