Where To Go Poem by Kaikubad Ali

Along with pink sun I walked the morning,
The footpath even the road was full of rack wrapping dead bodies.
Left hurriedly as flies of their mouth may come to me.
When tied my white shirt I was for office,
An old white bearded man obstructed my car’s door,
No coin, giving that torn note I closed the gate.
On road, jammed in midway, found burning hand
Entering through one window, mother asking for medicine.
Horrified, I cleared the purse, can’t but spit through another.
When reached the office, two jute haired, dust sprayed black girl
Pulled my Raymond suite to dust by one hand
And one hand for asking money.
Empty pocket, I scolded them by the gate man
And went inside to face the queue of more beggars.
People are begging money, asking for a loan.

After the end of day in my dry bed when I am in my night hug,
I dream, I scare, I can see seven billion people knocking my door,
Putting their scary hand through my window, through broken wall,
Asking for help, crying for alms, struggling for existence.