by Aniket Sanyal
Lord knows I tried
to murder this black dog’s
temperament, last night.
Asphyxiations proved as useless,
as these unloaded bullets,
for three decades into what’s left of my brain.
My body pretended keenness,
to the pleading obligations,
this world wanted of me:
never mind the rest.
That wearied pill poppers token cynicism:
I never cared to worry over warts so well.
Ma said to stay braided to an undeserving kingdom.
Baba said keep one eye open for dacoits in this mist.
I think I learned to remain as dangerous as I could.
Bhagavan-sahib or even my brother, that lecher:
I am now deploying my strangest,
rationalizations for some cosmic significance,
misplaced instincts, for eternal forgiveness,
In this order, gently now:
forgive me, and
mind you never murder this pain again.
****
Aniket Sanyal was born in Kolkata, India and raised in the suburbs of central New Jersey. His work can be read at BRUISER, APOCALYPSE CONFIDENTAL, DON’T SUBMIT! and elsewhere online. Chat him up on Twitter @AniketSanyal6 and Instagram @arjun__chai.