Moments of mundane,
Sustained.
Flowing from the top nonstop.
People must have lots of it stocked.
On every corner and around the block.
Nothing anymore these days shock.
Malaise has become the latest craze.
Not a phase.
But a rage!
Moments of mundane sustained.
Waiting for the watching of the rain.
With an elbow digging in a window pane.
But not a drop of rain even came.
Just a sound of thunder.
Booming without lightening.
Or flashes of it anywhere
Moments that remain,
Mundane.
It would be wonderful to see a llama,
Hop off a train!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem