international water charity
in the style of roger mcgough
**The Gloomy Thirst**
In the hush of the midnight hours,
when the moon's a silver gambler,
they gather—bottles and buoys,
promises packed tight like sardines in oil,
grinning like cheeky ghosts.
"Water for all!" they chant,
but the rivers gurgle with secrets,
a whispered dread,
while shadows slink behind dreams,
wading through hopes like wayward fish,
fins flickering, unmet,
as the clock ticks—tock, tock, tick.