Monsoon Puddles

Monsoon season puddles the whole block long and the whole curb deep. Opaque ponds muddied with green and brown begging for crocodile guests. Drippings from overhangs, dark color of near-water, we dodge between them. Don’t lose the game.

Now-Eastern materialism next to maimed beggars and slanted roofs falling into the ground. Garbage alongside temples, ugliness dripping from holy golden peaks.

Moments of mango smoothie passionfruit, yellow and black, seeds stuck in your teeth, then the heavens fall on you, absolute in their wet embrace. The rain that can’t be any heavier is heavier. Your overhang cannot safeguard. Puddles up to your knees. Above your knees. Slow flooding sneaks up on you, on everyone, as gutters clog and the wall of water slithers through its maze.