The pigeons croon in the streets
Old lullabies from distant places
and the crows fight for their morsels under
plastic chairs and baking heat
And home is where the heat settles
Like yellow from angsana trees
next to office workers,
feet tapping to traffic light beeps
There are gods and goddesses in the things we invent:
Next day home delivery and good luck rituals
Clinking of coins in donation drive tins
with the tumps of children’s football out in artificial fields
The stars are replaced with skyscrapers
The mountains have turned into factories
The sea is a port for metal and money
The land just a journey to complete
But we’ll remember our lullabies
through our lit screens and static recordings
We’ll hum what the stones have seen
and where the waters came from
For the birds in the sky say koel,
and the roosters still run on concrete
And in every crack in the wall
we find DNA from our history
Apr 22
Apr 22, 2026 at 4:39 PM UTC
The pigeons croon in the streets
Old lullabies from distant places
and the crows fight for their morsels under
plastic chairs and baking heat
And home is where the heat settles
Like yellow from angsana trees
next to office workers,
feet tapping to traffic light beeps
There are gods and goddesses in the things we invent:
Next day home delivery and good luck rituals
Clinking of coins in donation drive tins
with the tumps of children’s football out in artificial fields
The stars are replaced with skyscrapers
The mountains have turned into factories
The sea is a port for metal and money
The land just a journey to complete
But we’ll remember our lullabies
through our lit screens and static recordings
We’ll hum what the stones have seen
and where the waters came from
For the birds in the sky say koel,
and the roosters still run on concrete
And in every crack in the wall
we find DNA from our history
