a poem a day by A.J.Rao

Morning coffee

In the evening , women walked to the movies
Their bare backs aglow with stars of jasmines,
Out-smelling dark waters of street side gutters.

Our dreams vary with the color of fetid rivers
Flowing down with sewage of private shames .

Our streets are our teeming animal husbandry
Whose wealth is calculated by extended count .

Their dung’s pancakes slapped on street walls
Are a gross domestic wealth saved for future.

We make a morning coffee from buffalo milk
Milked right before houses in morning streets.

When it comes to quality of the milk in coffee
We take no chances with  milkman’s honesty.


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