Jagannath rao Adukuri Poems

This Friday should surely be good
Topped up by an evening hair cut
To cleanse fear deep in the follicles
Helped by a fakir* in the head-cloth.
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Break is what touches metal
And nerves and mental state.
Break is sound and disconnect
From life and living and love.
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The soft pink of the wind palace
Does not jell with her poverty’s
Blazing red tie-and-dye saree
Too kitschy for our proud art,
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Yesterday was the day of cockfights
The birds stared at their bound legs
Waiting to bleed their bird-friends
Our white fluid glistened in the pots
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There a bald man walked into the sea
The sea of emptiness beyond the window
Wanting to get back to the mother fast
Inside, a greedy woman, a son in fog
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You watch the celluloid horror
Of a twelveyear-old girl
Lying spreadeagled, shrieking
As knowledge strikes as horror
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These people have come here
To solve existence problems
On the river that washed sins,
Human bodies and buffaloes.
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I had dreamt of a magic, a mere thing
Waiting to become a mere thing
Just like a rock of inorganic cells
A few chromosomes carry all memories
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They are unknown quantities;
they sit still in shadows and evenings.
sometimes they crouch expectantly
waiting to be reality-copied
...