Eventually

Eventually,

You no longer notice the tarred-out road signs

you get to where you got to go.

The sea lulls you

to see only what you need to see.

You stop gathering the garlands

those placards and slogans

now pulped and paper machéd.

Your three-brick stove

wouldn’t know what you ate,

petrified kindling carries no taste.

You forget the Morse code,

the alphabet soup of UN, NGO.

Refrains fade and the jeeps go home.

You stop

counting the dead.

You don’t hear the waves

crash at your feet,

or feel the sand under your sole.

You don’t wait for the unarrived bus

you walk and you walk,

you ignore the burden on your back.