Ode to Mumbai 3 – She said we’re rats

The air today it reeks of sorrows wild.
The smoke from cars and trucks and burning trash
The fumes off burning hearts that used to dream
The sordid lusts of hawks who thirst for blood.

She said, “We’re rodents, obviously my love.
Just rats who scurry endlessly with hope.
But rats are rats and rats don’t get to hope
Rats, evaporate before they know.”


A Tribe of Sedative-Ecstatic Savages

We’re citizens of a tribe of sedative-ecstatic savages, in

Kingdoms of filth and infrastructural amenities, with

Gold-crusted grins of sharp shocking jaws

Anaesthetized, impervious, black punctured eyeballs.

The leprechauns drool and crawl in ivory doom

They thirst for puke at two, at three, at four, their

Eyes aglow with gleaming rust and sweat, in

Chains of blaring light and friendly face.

We’re aspirin-buzzed citizens of vodka-crazed majesty

With ravaging desperate naked dreams of blood

We’re dumbbell brained champions whose discipline-syringes

Shoot curated comforting tongues of toxic gas.

We the citizens, pledge ourselves to, as one blighted people,

Regardless of rage, time or reason,

Mouths imprisoned by aluminum granola bars

Bodies voluntarily cut, quartered, carted,

Lying entombed without a word in stacked cement.

A Rhyme About Nothing

An ode to the free,
Here’s a rhyming tree
Of lines that make no sense at all!
Why’re you reading this at all?

My lines are mundane
Ain’t using my brain!
But fantasizing about you now
You’re reading nonsense! Ee Hawn ACK ChoW!

Still in this vein,
It’s just a game!
Can’t stop writing can’t say anything right,
This page was much better off being white.

Gone through the motions,
There’s nothing more I can say to you
A rhyme about nothing and you read it through.


You must be really free.