Flood
Flood gulps the town.
All the postboxes sink.
Water pours in all of them and open all the envelopes,
Letters leave the paper and begin to swim.
People get on boats and try to fish,
But cannot catch any.
What on earth is this flood?
Blue sky's piss.
Aphasia of the town continues for three weeks.
People watch the water trying to read something,
But words swim too fast to apprehend,
And disappear before they make sense.
Some properly think drinking is listening to words,
Others wrongly believe to write is to wound the water,
All wondering if it is morning or noon or night,
The town is sleepy with time delayed and lost.
For awakening,
I jump from the balcony into the water
To post a new letter in the postbox.
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