For Kalaghoda
Music flows in the misty air tonight
Silent witness to whores at shores end
Gliding within the shallow salted sea
Their tremors in tune, in key
No time to lose, no time to waste
Such value, such haste, such craze
Ineffectual passion undazed
However remain in that atmosphere
Amazed, amazed
Rippled through their bodies
Moon shine, night-light invisible
Crept into deep crevices
Of shame they do not show
Their naked self they only know
A time for prayer, kneed and waiting
Deliverance!
Upon airs of goodness
What do they know, these whores
On shallow tainted seas they roam?
What airs they show?
What lessons they know?
Monday, March 10, 2008
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