The Cargo Poem by Subrata Ray

Dry in care,
cowed in share,
Moaned for a relief.

In my sweet fourteen
i faced yellowish -green,
and wished to be ignited.

Bahamian father
gypsy mother,
and masquerade
crowded in my teen-gate.

I had no option,
but let loose,
the wealth of my virginal clues.

Traffic -vehicles,
to and fro
barrow to my brow,
hinted at desire of furrow.

I knew their zeal,
to fulfill
with my fiery in a bed,
the scorpions waded.

I grew in profession
with so many stamps,
in shady and blue camps.

Alcohols, and oddities,
sprang as lunch, and meal,
i turned into a willing will.

A nasty dustbin for wild sperms,
my life reduced into psychic germs.
chaff y, charcoal, tattered figure,
a sunless cave i bear.