The streets of Rome swirl with ***** water.
My clothes drenched, my shoes soiled
By this unholy baptism of nature’s fury.
The Watchmaker sleeps.
The heavens fail to answer, protect.
Behind us, the Colosseum circles broken time
In fragments: blood, sand and stone.
Sacrificed to the elements, we resist
Our fate, resist defeat.
Blue skies hide their faces
Behind *****, distorted mirrors.
Nothing to see here. Only
Rain falls like tears. Only
Tears fall like rain.
Dry land does not exist
Except elsewhere. Dystopia.
Here, curbside, umbrellas sagging,
Italy drowns.