Just close your eyes, and go to sleep.
The double parking on this street,
Under the streetlights that are so weak,
Will blend in with the cold concrete.
They will come from nowhere; they’re quick.
They hurry; they’re always moving.
When people like you are asleep,
Those beings roam the empty streets.
There is an old woman who sneaks.
There’s a man who always hurry.
Another one floats by the trees.
Under weak lights, they move freely,
Smiling, laughing, crawling, flying.
You won’t see them in the morning,
And not even in the evening.
If you want to see these beings,
Stay in the shed by the jeepneys;
Just close your eyes, and go to sleep.
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