Bicycle
The sun has centered me
into a fascinating glare,
humble reason
amongst simple people
no to be misplaced.
They carry a hidden regret,
that constant abstraction
makes them survive
the unnamable decline,
those empty sentences devoid of meaning.
Here I come into the rain
cast into a slander,
clusters of tiny colorful figures
hastily are crossing the road
taking shelter of crumpled roofs
ravaged, still living.
Ahead, I catch a narrow way
through the raucous roar of the bus
a cavernous stomach
packed with bruised stares,
exhausted and silent.
Never too far is the river
hiding his incumbency
behind the dilapidated architecture.
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