Raj Dronamraju Poems

There is a god her name is Maude
And she is prayed to on Saturday nights
The peanuts are free for the drinkers to eat
They get scattered on the counter on Saturday nights
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Rumors of war in the not too distant future
Self-conscious activity occurs under ominous, impending threat
Distracted by her wavering interest
And cuddled unsuccessfully with a malnourished reassurance
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Would you send me an autographed picture?
Would you send me a lock of your hair?
Would you kiss this postcard with bright red lipstick and send it back to me?
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Your rumored ending during the season of the chain
Fossilized form figure haunts wide awake dreams of the Cadillac set
Through the van's back windshield, the youth catches hold of a flash near subliminal
The vision regurgitated from cave painting to genetic memory
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What starts out as inspirational, role model-ish, cool, archetypal
Ends up as parody in the end
Discarded on the cutting room floor
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People were once entertained here
They stood in line and they stood in rows and they felt part of a positive patchwork
People were once entertained where we stand now
They held their breaths and they held their tickets and they didn't try to preserve it on their phone
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Putting down the disemboweled guts of a Honda
Twilight signals the garage's clanking buzz
Industrial strength cleansing gel squirted on permanently dirty hands and fingers
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Genocide would seem like a humanitarian mission here
By making the choice for barrel sized baked beans
You suffocate progress and fumigate an open mind
 
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I stayed up to two in the morning
To hear her curse the name of California
The irresistible pull of family and the mirror that creates a faceless community
Take the bitter meaning, hold your nose and force it down
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I knew him from my childhood
He starred in a sitcom that didn't last long
Made many guest appearances on The Love Boat and Fantasy Island
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