After Midnight Poem by PINONDANG SITUMEANG

Midnight, my stomach rang.
Inside a refrigerator found just eggs, instant noodle, taufu
and mushrooms, that last month grew in my chest.
I would boil all in kitchen utensil,
but unfortunately tears shed out dry.

Moon falling down over a kitchen table,
said its boring alone hanging far in the sky,
but nothing more boring then counting,
wall clock tickling after midnight
Sleepy while enjoy jazz music that turn lazily