The Sound Of Bye Bye Poem by RIC BASTASA

i feel at the last moment
the weirdness of the situation
time hangs itself
but you never smell the stinking dead hour
you see, i never had that snorkeling
it was too cold
the see blurs the fish
the rain comes heavily

and so i simply sit the whole day
on one of those rattan chairs facing the blue pool of water
beside the purple bougainvillea tree
i can't say i am sad
perhaps i am just too sleepy to remember anything

or perhaps i fall upon a chasm of the hours
and so i never remember the pain
the hours pass gently
it is already five in the afternoon
the boat arrives and
i am taken back
to the place where i do not belong

i keep on moving for motion's sake
no agenda, no place of destination
just an itinerary prepared by someone
who thinks that money must be saved
as i willing throw them all away

the boat sails upon a silvery surface
the boat has an eye
it is simply doing what must be done
under these peculiar circumstances
slicing the water
making the sound of bye byes.