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At Night I Hear Everything

At night
Quarter past two, precisely
Silence becomes a compulsory levy
Every residents has paid

I hear chill or heat landing rooftops
Like the Batman
I hear the clock
Performing the work of which
Clock industry has sent it

I hear nocturnal buses,
Interstate lorries run into potholes
And gunshots from enemy of the roads

I hear vigilantes
Beating to and fro
The tin of Cowbell milk
I hear far away, in every two hours interval,
Sirens of snoring bludgeons

I hear
Diverse screaming
Of diverse women
In captive of their men
Working raw primitive on them;
Dumb lamers!

At night
Quarter past two, precisely,
Insomnia held my ears listening
Hearing everything;
O! God help me.

Samuel C. Enunwa aka samueldpoetry
(the Leo with wings flying)

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