• the_uncomplicated_guy 6w

    Siestas In Summer

    Every afternoon, from two to four
    This city falls asleep.
    Don't make too much noise,
    She doesn't like being Disturbed
    Bring a pillow and some sorrow
    And settle in her warm embrace.

    The dogs go skinny dipping
    In the barely covered drains
    And slump down
    as the water splashes against their chin,
    Lost in the thoughts of their next meal.
    The rotting man covers his face with a moistened cloth
    Laying beside the fresh fruits.
    The constant buzzing of the fruitflies,
    A Leonard Cohen song.

    The students slump back in their chairs,
    The future of our nation,
    Nodding in unison,
    barely listening,
    In unison.

    drunk barely employable men,
    Lie around, indisposed,
    on the grass bed,
    The plastic cups (supposedly banned)
    Flex their freedom in the breeze.
    The present of our nation, dear friend,
    Is currently present in a dilapidated state.

    The past of our nation
    Is not doing much better, huddled around
    where the grass is greener.
    Bickering about dirty tricks and 10 rupee bets
    the wrinkled hands dealing cards
    more deftly
    Then the suited men in Vegas.
    Surrounded by tobacco packets
    And an increasingly hostile world.

    The lovers sitting by the tiny stream,
    Dip their feet in water
    And wash away the guilt of hiding
    And the the pain of parting.
    Their willingness to touch and explore
    Each other even in the sweat and humidity
    Is a true testament to modern day love.
    Smiling at things left unsaid,
    They thank the afternoon for putting the guards to sleep.

    The pan stained walls and the littered streets,
    Overlooking the glasspane windows
    Of the mnc.
    The dirt on the sidewalks,
    And the frayed electric wires,
    The motherly jamun with it's arching reach,
    The hungry squirrels and the hungrier dogs,
    The dust in the air and the noise in the ear
    Will all be there.
    Go on, take a nap.