Friday, May 14, 2010

As A Photographer I Have Nothing More To Show

i dont have pictures of
lovely nebulous
clouds
azure skies
or hand painted
sunsets
looming mountains
budding virginal flowers
i am sorry
you have come to the
wrong address
all i have as a photographer
is the pain of the people
i shoot on the streets
the dregs of society
living beneath the line
of humanity and dignity
living in shit eating
breathing shit
yes the smell of a hijra
whorehouse
clings to your soul
never goes
creaky cot
bed bug infested
the walls
seminally stained
pan stains
bleeding red
beneath the
torn mattress
condoms
that will not be used
across the bed
the urine smelling
cubicle of a loo
where the hijra
will wash herself
wash your member too
the money
for the instant fuck
rs 50 for a flying fuck
she took much before
the pleasantries began
as you climb down
the stairs guilt ridden
the tingling sensation
of a strange encounter
yes you will come back again
walk the stairs of doom
get fucked again

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