Saturday, September 29, 2012

In India Only Beggars Grow On Trees


everywhere
on the streets
rows and rows
saplings gnarled
old you will meet
begging in dust
humidity and heat
empty stomachs
your leftovers
they eat
their fucked
fate they could
not cheat
when the
times comes
death will strike
control alt delete
a journey from
a wretched womb
of despair
into an unmarked
grave complete
if uncircumcised
cremated log
within logs
coal and peat
om sweet om
hasty retreat

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