Rapporteur

I’ve watched black rain sow its seeds in fields of tarpaulin. pollinate the slum roofs with the manna of kali’s blood. and the angry gods in them come laughing out of blue urchin tongues. poverty’s a bitch, yo.

I’ve watched the crumbling yellow fingers of an afternoon gone stale, oozing into the guthka stained teeth of a 16 year old mother. I’ve watched those jaundiced eyes start, as the thorned whip of a lecherous finger spanks a black question mark on her honeyed skin.

I’ve counted as rain birds pull a sheet of breeze under the sky. hiding the lone fisherman, inkstaining his irrelevance into the raving sea. 

I’ve watched this city thrash my raw soul on the washing stone of guilt; I’ve watched it wring me dry, swallowing the stains whole. and then I’ve watched words flow out like dirty soap water. looking for an outlet.

All this and more have I witnessed from behind the veil of my lazy pen

as the world takes a giant shit out in the open. I take down minutes.

 

 

 

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About teevramadhyam

'I became insane with long intervals of horrible sanity' -Poe
This entry was posted in ananth, Atyachar, beauty, Bombay, City, Could be verse, epiphany, Gothamisation, middle class mithya, night, One Bad Day, traffic, vignettes, why? and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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