When the day turned into night
The night turned wet
Until the morning
In the morning
The ground was crying wet
…just as well
The tears from heaven
Had dropped in torrents and droplets
Flowing from east to west
The drains sped
The drains fed the stagnant lakes
The lakes fed the flowing rivers
The rivers fed the swallowing salty ocean
The watery depth deepened the sorrows of the swelling ocean
When night turned into day
The day turned a nightmare
None remained where they ought to stay
The walls tumbled away
The rooms raised their own Primsol line
The men raised their suits above their suites
The women praised the chicken for running to the kitchen
The children laced their boots on the wrong foot
And placed their books not for school
When the day dragged onto the streets
The streets died under running water
The streets choked beneath rolling rubbers
The streets dug old holes into new dams
The streets peeled off the tar to touch the dust
“From the dust you were born
To the dust you have returned”
Old cracks turned into new graves and caves
When the day stretched into the offices
There still existed vacancies
The emptiness therefrom was too hollow to notice
The desks
The files
The cubicles
The silent occupants remained behind closed doors
The parking lots
The scheduled slots
The banking vaults
The absent participants remained outside flooded doors
When the day spent the evening at the graveyard
There were new arrivals
Arriving before their funeral
Appearing before their burial
For they swam
And they swam with the current
When Nadmo remained absent
When Nadmo waited to be sent
When the day turned into night
The night claimed back the nightmare
Who wasn’t scared?
The reality was scary
Who was expecting even a raindrop?
None was praying for rain to drop
All were praying and trusting and hoping
Hoping to tell the rain to stop
To stop scaring the cats and the dogs
Oh!
But sure
It has been so
Since 1960