It rains real bad the streets get sad,
The city drowning in water pooled.
In bengali we say only a pissing frog,
Can sink this city unschooled.
Knee deep or walking like a creep,
Street urchins make the best of it.
Splashing with joy fishing for a toy,
They don't mind the floating shit.
It's fun especially with the sun,
The water starts to boil.
Happy the microscopic world,
Unpaid a vacation from the soil.
Mosquitoes are doing better,
Not so the poor and middle class.
The affluence of merit worth shit,
The goons of bengal harass.
It's easy also for the pickpockets,
But much better for the lead.
Money squandered for drainage,
Larceny in the ruling breed.
Most now fat post diabetic scat,
Makes the pooled water sweet.
Sweet this morning children fishing,
Snakes lost below their feet.
I've always said much upgrade,
Of no worth in shanty town.
Calcatian's calculus of complacence,
Is like their shit, a holy brown.
Down the street, not discreet,
Are manholes for all pedestrians.
Uncovered they provide a tour of hell,
Complementary rooming with carrions.
I sit now nice, the only trice,
For me here is to stop the think.
That may thus reward all of us,
Adding to the water my stink.
