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.