Illusionary Guru

I drive through your crumbling cities
fast car, hugging the back end of 100 mile an hour trucks

past places where dissolved guru's once sat on leopard skin
faint memories, of concentrating for humanities goal

a kaleidascope of visual capitalist offence
goats tied to road cones, walking the plank, dicing with death, eyes looking blank

chai walla at dawn
flicking drizzling hot milk from copper pots through the diesel air

intoxicated by the unseen
discomfort as a ruppee millionaire

sacred starving cow, fighting for rubbish with the destitude dogs
morning toilet on the pavement

the body, a hindrence, toothbrushing in the public bathhouse
naked babies sleeping on plastic, abandoned by parents hunting for breakfast

armless grace of elderly beggars outside of temples
rooms full of statues, who are these plaster relics that we bow to?

home is where the heart is
sleeping on the sidewalk in the torturous heat of the daylight
dreaming of love in the movies and the possibility of dwelling inside a building

recycled angre and resentment and a thousand beaded neclaces to adorn my body
just so the man can eat
a shared moment of looking into his cataract eyes
somebodies father, trying and tired
   
she sits outside the health centre, as the parisians swathed in scarves shoot past her on 
their motorbikes

she is going nowhere today
she is alive, and this has been a long life
and she thinks about nothing more than the moment

her pavement is in India