Camus' Nightmare

There’s a symphony being played on the stage

Delirious, the audiences, babble in tongues

That will soon speak languages

Forsake your toys – listen on

The symphony, like a lullaby

Folds in a calming voice

The note goes high

And low too - plunging to deep despair

Stays there for an hour, a day

But always returns to the general theme – happiness

Then – recess

The symphony is melancholic now

The violins scrape open the air.

The audience – people - in despair.

Look how they persevere!

One sobs, another ties a snare

The third one an artist, with a cut ear

A man with no place to go -

Sitting on the stairs,

Smokes blunts and stares

Freakishly, at the spectacle.

You hunch forward

There’s something missing -

Got stolen at recess.

You would have forgotten

But the bulge in your breastpocket,

Deflated - a ghost of your kernel - Reminds you

Find it, in the folds of your symphony

The gun in your hand – ready

In case you fail.