5.8.2012 • Man in the Rain

Man in the Rain

There  was a man stooping in the rain
He had lost his keys in the rainwater
And while he thought he was looking for them
It accumulated in his coat
A darkly yellow raincoat
Obscured perhaps
and its colour deformed
by the rain
which fell gray against the black sky
The moon
a pale reminder of some impending ill
shone almost round through the granite clouds

The man's hat was black
Perhaps the kind of black that originates in a brown by day
or perhaps just that, black
And his eyes were nowhere to be seen
The rain fell like elongated spheres through a sea of emptiness
It seemed to replace every once clearly defined grain of the asphalt
with its own fluid inconstant shapes
The shape of droplets distilled backwards through time
to their perfect, immobile and imaginary state

The man stood there
looking faceless at the falling water
quiet
still
calm
only his lips spasming a little with a silent cry
CALL ME CALL ME BY MY NAME
call me by name and I'll respond
call and I may reply
the lips cried in a calm inexistent twitch
and the man slowly sank into the pitch-black earth
his eyes ever staring
blank, relentless
at him from every inch
of the shallow ground