SMOG ERRED TREES

In the new dawn of mammoth,

There’s a moth that tremors,

In the silent spring tide,

Lie the dumped polythene bags,

There’s a voice in Somalia,

In the mother victims dry green band,

There’s a cry in the western mall,

That says it used to be.

In the ether of crow food,

Ajinomoto seems to soothe,

White lighthouse beyond caves,

What killer red porn.

Nemo’s ship was never born,

Moby bought the red horn, painted red,

Freewheelin circus banjo,

Never heard the wheels blow.

Aye! Were cushioned up the shoe,

The kaffan of white syrosis,

Ranbaxine sells stray dog liver juice,

And everybody buys vanaspati oil,

down with the ghee read the advert.

SAID ABU , LO AND BEHOLD!,

The kohinoors beyond me but,

Curves can be sold…

Up on the vatican’s stolen Athenian ceiling,

Indraupadi tells slave boy to wax his toes,

Elsewhere in an afterlife library meeting,

There’s a conch cry of swans roosting,

There are philosophical analogies and little sugar hearts,

The hearts they breath in and shit out.

My history book reads ten commandments,

My interest in metaphysics ten theorems

On the sunlit path, came the crimson ray,

9 million rockstars feeding on clay,

And a statue in America,

With a record of historical faces,

I swear they lied to me.

In the new dawn of mammoth,

There’s a moth that tremors…

Our eyelashes light butterflies.

We understand the sky electric blue,

Our shades as the mockingbird of the maroon car.

Way back from vaishnodevi,

Saw a million truckers sleep,

Up on T.V ELVIS WAS WEEPING,

For a cheeseburger.

These oblivious orange neon lights,

Seem to signal return,

As the gurgling stream of tires is burnt,

There are 6 pair of shows in this dingy compartment,

Each aligned neither to sun or moon,

In tapping blue and white commando p.t. shoes,

Through different nightlights in govardhan maroon,

A shadow over petty aravalis,

Silhouettes in blue silk veiled,

The crazy ball twists in surrender,

The mall is glittering in the Himalayas sold,

In the name of diwali…