Passive Aggressive Poem by Mandira Mitra

You wanted to travel the world, so I wrote you a song.
Now you want to be a singer. Maybe I shall hunt a forest boar
And adorn your ego wall with its hooves.
Day before yesterday you were talking to
The mermaids of Cape Comorin in sleep. I am still not done
Drawing strings on your hunting sling.
Lead me not to temptations
Diana herself keeps you out of harm's way,
Hot pursuits adorn a king not a queen
But a loose stitch
May be a fatal thing.