Raj Dronamraju

I shook your hand
I took the loss
Escape was impossible
I took the loss
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The hand of friendship was offered
The hand of friendship was slapped away
The trajectory of the spurned
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We are the goldfish in the bowl
We are known as Mr. and Mrs. Goldfish
I don't mind this transparency, a benign surveillance
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My father in law
Barely missed the last just war
But saw the severed heads of prisoners of war
The Japanese displayed them
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She is the queen of the replacements
Her people await further orders in a large open-air building
A former factory - old and gray and damp, it looks like the 1950's
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Have you ever heard Saturday morning radio?
Is the radio programming different on Saturday morning compared to weekdays?

She dreads small talk and making his lunch
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If obnoxiousness is art consider this your exhibition gallery
Different stages of difficult behavior hang on the walls
"Don't touch" but some illiterate fool usually ends up doing just that
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Love sighted through an opening in deep forest
A blur that moves quickly and vanishes
But leaves a lasting impression
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No one expected such an obvious logical error to sail through unquestioned
Everyone waiting for everyone else to do the questioning
And after the damage is done, they'll take turns blaming people who were not responsible
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I bear a message no one wants to hear
That moderation is good and a chaste appreciation is desirable and beautiful

Please don't suffer in the shadows of another's experience
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Please don't let your creativity wane
Driven by collapsing self-belief
Confused by camouflaged truth
Impeded by lack of access to real experience
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It hardly feels like I had a break at all
The light swallows the will but it does not dent intent
When they told me to stay put, I stepped out
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Tonight I feel fit enough to ask a few questions
They've always insulted you by describing you as having a lot to say
That's okay - we will not budge, we are maniacs in mirror laden otiosity
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I wish you loved me the way I wanted to be loved
And I wish you had my best interests at heart
Not as maintenance of living
Not as dancing with dollar signs in your eyes
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My life has been defined by the things I could not get
The things I could not have
The things I could not achieve
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This farmer's market opens at night
Not during the morning like the rest of them
The lights of nearby shops are a fuzzy pretty distorted outline
Pumpkin aura disbelief does not push an influence
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The way I always go into voice mail when I call her on the phone
The way she's an hour late when we meet, I get up to leave and that's when she appears as if nothing's out of the ordinary
The way she talks of people I would never ever want to meet
She casts rebellion as a reaction against politeness and treating other people decently
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This real life and you
And you said 'Let's get matching tattoos and run away from our cities together to a third city where no one knows us'

And I assume
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I should know better than to think of you as a friend
Your gentle teasing, your needling camaraderie always has a mean edge to it
And what you tell other people I said and what they believe of this
Makes me enemies out of strangers
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War clowns in victim hats
Those who have seen too many action movies
Those who hope to get someone to pay for their college education
The volunteer and the draftee - History will split the difference with sympathy
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