3.Dimaz Nunug: In Crush,

 Sharing Poetry on World Poetry Day

 3.Dimaz Nunug: 

In Crush,

In shattered. Keep smiling in the queue. I don't feel sore feet. Waiting for the mini market to open. The clock on the hand is chasing seven o'clock. And the queues are getting crazy long.

At home, the frying pan is turned upside down. The oil bottle is empty. There seems to be a hole under the bottle. Seepage on the kitchen floor. In drinking rats who have been smart to choose expensive food.

The clock is spinning hunting. At seven o'clock the guard slowly opened the door. Elbows nudge each other chasing the oil that has disappeared hidden by time. But apparently, oil is still not bought, lying on the shelves of tiny minimarkets. With prices tossed the wallet into the frying pan. Burned to ashes in the breasts of mothers.

Kaliwungu, 2022