…tripping past your lips
so lightly that
they do not disturb
reason
sedition and treason-
you whisper
fireworking revolution
so it explodes across
someone else’s
sky

…that moment
when
slaveshipments 
sentenced
to rigorous labour
be returned
back to sender.
this euro order
so twisted now
even its own
hangman
cant exact payment
for this capital
punishment.

….let tongues
force themselves past
sealed lips
finding saliva
and heat
and blood
and desire
fellating 50
cocked guns
slicing through
circuits
connecting
hammer to trigger
yes. please.
tonight
let
tongues unite

…you string me along with unpunctuated oneliners that wraparound only when i realize we going back to the beginning

and yet….

..word-shiving
with bloodied finger
i violate verse
and meter
to fit inches into
my
attention span
scrollmotherfucker
before i type-on

….i think
they think
you
stung like a butterfly
and floated like a bee
wish you were around
to punch
those eulogies
back into
fbi-informing
thirdway
throats

….i search now
for the next
scream
hidden deep beneath
those perfect
10s
those 6pointers
and 90percenters
those icsers and iitians
titans of
immaculate conceptions
unsullied by the
exchange of
fluids and germs and
the crashings
of postorgasms
did they teach you
how to
take ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
out of the emoticon
and forcefeed it into
your emotional
lexicon
how those hands thrown
up in nonchalance will
balance the weight
of nations
in whitelands where
minorites can model
but neverever design
and majorities dwindle
but neverever toe the line
how you will always
be the sucker they
engineered you to be
blowingaway wives
and lovers
and whoever
does not
fit your newworldorder
how your equations
will neverever balance
and your hardwired biologies
neverever become realities
did they teach you
to scream
my brighteyedones
not silently
and violently
but in openmouthed
orgiastic painpleasure
making mountains tremble
and the earth move
to finally
make space
for you?

 

…from dust to dust
you whisper
sanctifying the fires
that tore apart
bodies and bricks
and histories
and childhoods
from babri to barbed wires
you sell that book
as if
there is anything actually
written on its empty pages
but then
what would you who
burns down libraries
and spears ideas
with tridents
know anything
of writing?
look closely though
and you will see
the monuments
of love and laughter
built by
mothers and sisters
and their neighbors
and daughters
that live on
in an unburnt
nameplate
undrowned
in your godforsaken
dust

….yeah
i get it
how you not
an activist
how you just
here for the ride
swept along doing
ya thang
riding your bulls
and your drones
and your golfcarts
and your
tenyeared blingtrain
into zoning
enterprises
where
no man has gone before
at least not
from where you grew up
i getit i tellyou
how to survive
you the one whos
civilized
and
you the one
whosanity
restores
my parity
you one
after all
is way more
than all these fringe
impairites
i. get. it.
but ima
tellya
and you gotta
come closer mah brotha
cause i gotta
whisper it
into your head while
licking those
untarnished earlobes
making you just
a little wet – admitit!
bystander you might be
waving bye
to every stand
but you
only as innocent
as any poet
who swallowed
words with
spit

….bedlam
on that street corner
of gariahat and hazra
silenced suddenly
(with one small step
into a mudfloored shack)
by the tapping
of typewritten
bureaucracy
here was the
raj’s lost glory
here indeed
the empire’s
manicured nails on keys
lined up – an army
of drumming fingers
birthing
governmental reports and
class projects and
overseas missives and
letters to editors and
notices of death
we waited
patiently
for flying digits to slow
so we could rush over
and start the next torrent
leaning in
we’d whisper sweetnothings
into the ears
of those silent magicians
watching and ducking
as
letters flew out
of hammered translations
as
thoughts drowned out
in clattering lettermongering
we’d sit very very still
lest
those shooting alphabets
got caught in
hair and eyelashes
like lettered glitter
that wouldn’t wash out
for days
but
those taptaptaptappings
musta
gotten lodged deep
thought that the monsoons
on that aluminum roof
had finally washed away
that babelic song
yet
here i am
30 365s later
typing
in tune
still.