English booze and beer available here

cooking poems in my pressurised head
covered by my unwashed hairs
and unwashed hood of my unwashed jacket
i walked along the footpath
scented by smell of burnt tadoori rotis
it was evening
and as usual my legs walked till it dropped me
at where the angel has captivated my heart

all the heavenly smell i smelt
all the heavenly sweat i could sense in my tongue

Like the rapists of delhi all over a poor manipuri girl,
the rickshaw pullers, the bus conductors,
the suited booted capitalist pricks and me
were fighting crushing each other's balls
For the Crazy Romeo Rum
some to wipe the days off
some to join to mourn
some like any one else
and me to sleep

Everyone was a crooked version of Shakespeare's Romeo
Everyone was a fighter,
no one could move anyone
we were as firmed as mountains
for the English Booze made in Uttar Pradesh

Screams and shouts!
as if we all had just listened to
“Stop Whispering”

I knew it , i knew it
i would be last one to get the last bottles
the qoute or the song remains the same
and i walked out from that mad rushing crowd
with two Sikkims in my both Manipuri hands
one for the evening
again one for evening

and the poetry i cooked was
“Im recording silence”
that too a stolen line from '24 Hours Party People'

No comments: