Claustrophobic shanty towns,
The wretched, putrid stink;
Scorns the humblest of men.
Bodies piled on trains,
A mob of figures;
Sweeping streets with footsteps.
Trepidation lingers at every turn.
Sitting on a Winter's night;
Longing for that chaos,
The stillness of exhaust fumes.
Heady aromas punctuating each corner.
The retching of throats,
Calmed by Pepto Bismol reveries.
My stifled hot head;
Soothed by honking horns.
Monsoon waves washing away sins,
And excrement.
The stillness of night overcomes.
Jiving to rhythms,
The senses forgive.
A tumultuous love affair.
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