53: a non-standard ode to the night rain.

The sound comes as i sleep
of waterdrops on concrete
and tin roofs
Sleep comes
No matter how you fight it
And rain
From lands far away
No matter how you stop him
Reaches his beloved ground.

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52 about the empty buildings at night

I wonder how these empty dark buildings feel when they see me staring at them from the bus i'm in.
Are they thinking, these are our real selves:  removed of all the fancy lights and lit billboards; without the blaring music; emptied of people flocking like flies on shi poop.
Or maybe the other way around. You're not supposed to see us like this; These are not our real selves.  Tonight we sleep, tomorrow when we wake up we'll be full of life and music and you'll never think we were this dead the night before.
But then again talking malls would be freaky.

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