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The Sleepwalkers



On the way to the Promised Land
Deadened are we,
the happy sleepwalking people
We watch with pleasure
Dead animals on the streets,
Nudging the folks, gesturing
the death of light,
the death of everything
And play the games,
our usual games.

Take the air on the streets of Sleepwalkingland
our happiness, the sleepwalking gunman stole
His weapon he brought from Kunming
I was no more affrighted
for I walk without my sense
I had bargained my sense
with some coriander from Khwairamband.
An old man was sleepwalking
Last he was seen walking uneasily
with fifty years of juiceless life
dried and cut near the khongban
The gunslinger fired at him
He fell down, bleeding profusely bloods
So amazing that the bloods had the colours of money
Then he banged his butt against the man’s head
Then he barked all the money were his prize now
Then I was surprised how another sleepwalker
How he could feel so excited
when we are paralyzed with decadence.

I didn't feel anything
We are the sleepwalkers
We are sleepwalking with money
Looting and saving for our posterity
Saving for the trip to the Hallowed Land
We are sleepwalking with guns
Mushrooming, enjoying the death of life.
We are sleepwalking with nothing
The earth is parched, the air dry,
the water too polluted
We sleepwalk, therefore we are.




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