You See, It's All Relative Poem by RAVI RAMANATH

You See, It's All Relative

the seeds that germinate
and blossom in bliss
are all those rotten ones;
the good ones need caring,
nutrition and a hawkeye
lest they wither away
into oblivion in their
own delicate vulnerability.

the garbage piles
mushroom in abandonment;
(one week of sanitary strike
and the city is a seething reek)
they grow without plan,
without the need for a plan.
It's the Japanese gardens
that require the painstaking
care and focus of a
follicle plucking Jain monk.

give them a run
- a sleepy mayor would do -
the rats and mice tumble out
of the crevices in their millions;
Oh the plague!
the squeaky floors and faucets
of the hospitals - think about it -
are inhumanly sterile;
like, it takes a lot of killing
to sustain living.

So, what I am saying is -
Living, in itself, is a perversity of
a natural state in a sense;
All senses are, then again,
Relative.