the walls are bare
the mosquitoes full

the buildings dirty
so easily

the children play
the children fall

careless steps
on the stairwell slide

motorbikes riding
on ghosts of dust

mimic the missing
clouds on ground

today's dream rose
in a pot of oil

bubbles marched in line formation
held limping crickets

and dried moth corpses
poured out the throat

of a mute little girl
spilled on the floor

and down through the holes
of the mice who scrambled

before breakfast was made.

the breakdown of a ping-pong ball
along in the local river current
breathing water and giving air
bobbing for a little more time

in a blink before sleep
i lay next to the burn out man

dead light tainted with the dust
summer collected and abandoned

the flies hover
the ceiling
 overhead hangs

 a three-fingered helicopter
disabled in flight

he who stopped for a longer rest
became too lazy to get up again.