Raj Dronamraju Poems

My love breaks wooden boards like 1970's martial arts demonstrations
And you remain true and constant
Anvil for the hammer, fixed point in which to set a location
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Who is fat and drunk and stupid at two o'clock in the morning?
Spilling his whopper halfway down his collared logo-ed t-shirt

And who made the 80's redundant and facile?
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The Dark Americans, not meaning skin color
Not physical description, not character assassination

The Dark Americans, an archetype all the same
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Not exactly an auspicious start to the journey
In the dust bin is the effort it took to get here
Should have given up before you reached your goal
Give up and be happy and free
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Some people eat what they notice of others for dinner
Perpetual Lent, perpetual Ramadan
I am denying myself the most immediate pleasures
I'll watch it occur in others and make copious mental notes
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Spent and ragged and too much time in the afternoon sun
I met a frayed man when he tried to sell me something
He looked okay from a distance but close up, details fall apart
He was missing a button from his shirt which had threads dangling from it and he was unshaven and his eyeballs were crisscrossed with red blood vessel canals
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Against my will, I helped him plant the seeds of hatred
Stood back and watched as up sprung distrust, fear, class divisions, racial prejudice
Hid behind the cover of being a good taxpaying American
Slammed the book shut and went away thinking that was enough
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She made love to a train
Then it moved on to another station
Carrying mail and the sordid histories of its passengers
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Burning down the temple of Goth
Experience counts for almost nothing
She talked of experience
As she handed out candy and alcohol
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The Inability to acknowledge failure
An overwhelming arrogance that blots out life itself
The task of creation is overrated
Now there's a godlike pause in the abandoned home of the mind
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