Poetry at Sangam

SangamHouse

 










Grammar Atrocities

Uff, I am a pronoun

Suffocating on the greasy retro vowels in the throat

And praying for more poetry awards.

Holed in the larynx

Ancestral rodents lick sounds of past perfect saliva

And protest against the aging words.

 Kantian lizards told me to rhyme in anonymous apostrophes.

I did not obey them

And continued singing Konark temple love songs in silence.

My violent upbringing

Rare blood group and Brothers Karamazov

Prepared me for the career of a novelist

But I suffered from hysterical dental consonants.

Say Fergalicious, Fergalicious, Fergalicious- three times in Farsi

You will be shot DEAD.

Speaking with adjectives is now impossible.

I trust punctuations.

They are like bacteria cells

Infecting eye, ear, nose, tongue, skin and

 All our sensory perceptions and heroic actions.

Often our daily syllables are made of pesticides

But when you pronounce them as ugly proverbs of dialects

Ah, they become so beautiful.

May be I am lying the truth

But this language is not mine

The language I speak at home

Smells of hydrogen peroxide and grammar atrocities.
 
 
 
← Ashwani Kumar