That Gentleman

Amid the angry may

the gentleman sitting under a lemon plant

with a heavy hot breathe

with half-closed eye

biting his fingers

sucking the salty dust to satisfy

his paper belly and his sore throat,

In the rags of his memory

of his mistress,

people pass by and spit beside him

women vomit due to his smell

yeah really disgusting

his face is not human face

it's a dumb coconut played with legs like a football by people he loved,

Beside him lies his bag

filled with diaries and a wood straw

and some ink

he cleans the bag the pages everyday

touches gently the dried ink which wrote something on the papers,

He kept on scratching his head and sucking his thumb for a while

then he stood and went down a large dig filled with some water

drank by his hands the green water,

came and sat down then opened a cracked page with a palm print,

a girlish palm,

he kept his palm on it and undried his eyes

kissed the print and opened the diary which he had in the bag

read a ballad which that palm might have written,

Loo was on its extreme power that day and the sun sitting on his head

the lemon was not able to give him the shade he wanted

but there was a fragrance from the lemon which might be saving him from every blast he was having,

He read all day and filled many pages

people say he came from somewhere

and has been here

he was interrupted

asked about

he couldn't speak a word

but shown his diary with a portrait of two small children

with a plant

some water

a dig before them

and one of their hands put together to help the plant stand,

He then pointed towards the lemon he was sitting under

and towards that palm that was imprinted on the page

I couldn't see when he started crying but now his tears have flown down to his chest

his rags were more soiled now

his throat more sore now

his breathe more hot now

but I at once left his company and couldn't come back to him

never

never!

but I remember his gentle personality

his ballad

that palm print

his wet chest

ever

ever!