decently I speak to people
who nave no clue about it
but throw tantrums at every
ghost they meet. their delinquent imagination
stalks haunted geese and wild animals
as they do their sojourns in jungles of cities.
they take a book or two and read in coffee houses
and restaurants. debate on the latest situation in the country
not forgetting to gag history in armpits or inflated chests.
this is a dialogue of the self, not a diatribe.
the folks I am talking about have become skeletons
impoverished by hunger, yet out to attain Nirvana
which may be elusive, but they see it not as mirage
but a collage of reality. thus speak many worlds
in my world of writers, poets, free thinkers, rotten thinkers
good men and women- motley crowd of disdain, love and money.
but all intellectuals, where their brain teasers hover mainly
around the populated world of the internet.
am I going insane? a trifle maybe, since insanity
is contagious, simply to shrug it off will not do.
now the latest gaff is to read aloud your poetry
in public gatherings and pretend how insane you are.
read social consciousness and dissent.
I dissent with the filth around me
I dissent with the sky scrapers I witness
even as at it's foothold you watch rags of clothes with
a body secretly holding it.
I dissent at the decibel of noises pretending to hold
the conscience of a country where the money makers are teasing
people with cricket and games of cards. the king and the queen tucked
away in their palaces, weaning the rich.
I dissent, when over the hullabaloo of floods, drought
people remain like statues with water flowing silently under
bridges of euphoria.