What the New Road Takes Away
by

Mesmerized by the compensation,
even the victims are sanguine.
The coconut palms
that buttressed their lives
fall down one by one.
They are busy
picking up the last juicy nuts.
But they cannot keep their memories
comatose.

Red mounts come dead
into the fields.
The yellow frogs and the snakeheads
bury their dreams
under the new highway.

The purest west wind will be stained
with the carbon.
The monsoon vibes will vanish
in the motor cacophonies.
The cataclysmic water will gulp
the remaining homes.

The last stop is still a grave,
yet man prefers a fast track.

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