A drill is pulsing
in and out
In and out –
of my head
With every nuchal muscle spasm,
The boring goes deep and I yelp. (Somehow this line sounds dirty)
It’s the result of bad posture while sleeping in bed.
I’ve been waking up to a racket every morning for a month
Construction work is in progress along the road in front
Soil turned over, steel piles hammered to the ground,
Heaps of bricks, sands and stones, slabs of concretes, sheets of plywoods
Generator rumbles, water pump pumps,
Heavy engines burr, and machine parts clunk
I see dedicated workmen, loving their work.
And I’m here worrying over the chicks and the damn monitor lizard
A space in the yard is leased for the workmen to build a shack on
To store their wares and to rest their back on
From Papar town, through the suburbs
Past my house and to a processing plant
Three year old sewer pipes are being renewed
for a sinking foundation had displaced them.
Previous contractors had misjudged the land,
And now taxpayers money are paying for their erroneous plan.
As the work drags on, and the air grows heavy,
My mind is removed from all things petty.
I have to break my thoughts in verse
I can’t seem to write linearly
I fear I might curse.
My country’s election day is fast approaching.
The campaign has been a dirty affair.