Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Now Dont Ask Me Why I Shoot What I Shoot

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hijra
souls
through
the eye
of my camera
i loot
a hijra born
a barren tree
bears fruit
a fruit
forbidden
nubile
lethal
but cute
a love
in auto mode
violent
mawkishly
mute
stylishly
silent
echoes
from a flute
entwined
at the thighs
a soulful duet
my hijra poetry
its offshoot
a fragrance
it transmutes
poetic pursuits
capturing
a drop
of a poisoned
tear on
the soul of humanity
as it dilutes
a beauty more
beautiful
attractive
seductress
than the harlot
from beirut
juicy
like grapefruit
voluptuous
astute
neither man
nor woman
an androgyne
i salute as she
binds me in
silken threads
thoughts
demonic
diabolic
i refute
whoring
my doomed
dying destiny
at the heights
of her passion
my last will
my last testament
my tribute
alas a poet
encaged
enslaved
to an androgynous
anomaly
no escape route
a seminal
soliloquy
splurts
as it shoots
the hijra
in a womans
body suit
done with me
now she searches
for another poet recruit

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