In the End
A relaxed December evening
hides fangs on bystreet downtown.
women wrapped in dummy
brands battle to share focus:
makeup or customers?
freely flowing traffic allies with
paralyzed brain. if you buy
art of flirting you're proof against
silent gestures - pimps make it swift
Shallow water harvests shrubs,
insects, tiny fishes. I move
fingers smoothly down nude
of rented Venus. she spreads her
body cozily on neat, damp bed;
checks out videos on smartphone.
why she has to play wife?
I don't have wife. plus I don't
want one! just orgasmic dizziness
the alley next street is lined with
muslim style food stalls. you'll
say I'm jackass of a poet, I bet
even Bukowski can't dismiss his
taste buds here. I go for everything
that is real, potent, has outcome
you won't dig my profile
Night engulfs Mumbai like
serpent swallowing mammoth.
empty bus-stop provides
refuge to cycle through moist
autobiography. how strong,
weak, ugly, or clichéd it might be
you must stay with me and
blow a kiss in dry night air
for beginnings still to arrive
-------------------------
Comments
Post a Comment