With a beer on this beach,
I think about myself sitting in
A room biting the cap of my pen
In search of words.
Or all I can do is sit here thinking
About that beach and the eight
Percent of alcohol between
My teeth, as I do now.
This wishful thinking of being
Somewhere else, watching myself
Hike through a mountain in a
Third-person perspective-
It keeps passing through my
Mind constantly like a simulation,
Wondering about all the un-eaten
Mangoes. Untrodden places-
Unmet people and
The unheard voices.
The urge to chase down all the grace
On one hand, and the urge to
Hunt down all the patience with
Impulsive hate on the other.
The fancy of silence in traffic
And the wisdom of the crowd
When I sulk in solitude.
This vacuum of things happening
Elsewhere when I'm here..
It boggles me.
It boggles me when I think about
The other me who's erasing this poem,
While I'm on the edge of penning
Down the final word here.
No comments:
Post a Comment