Rain Clouds Poem by Gajanan Mishra

Dreams of Peasant Babies Fog, Mist and Rain collide Nights of Memories and loss of sleep Inner city streets are vacant Los Angeles is a drowsy beast Groggy freeways groan and breathe Carbon Dioxide breaths as we Travel through its arteries noticing Nothing but the coffee's scent. As mechanically as derailed roller-coasters We move among the tamed monstrosities While Banks run the world and baby peasants Share nightmares of man creating machines That cause earthquakes at will. Nightmares during Daylight persist; and now the peasant babies will Question the acts of nature. Tsunamis and tornadoes Have now become suspicious. And pessimistic I Questioning the inner city's Fog, Mist, and Rain; Wondering, are they man made? P.X