Poem: Some direct talk, if you will
Photo: Medium
By Goirick Brahmachari
I have been killed by Indian English poets.
What lives now is just a shadow
It must be said now and oh,
How it must be said!
That many of them drove me away
When I tried to be a socialist
For I was not from JU or JNU or NYU.
Poets are not right or left
They usually write truth
They do not seek residencies,
Accolades or invitations
In silky festivals to dance.
Appeasing is believing
Believing is appeasing
God-mothering
God-fathering
Like a beehive
Clinging onto schools
And gurus.
Hating each other
Yet, meeting at fests
Festivals, breeding:
Love, hate and jealousy.
Left is right
Right is left.
As far as poetry is concerned,
They always sell each other,
To publishers, to get them published.
The correlation of them
Is them, which is 1
No significance level, Sorry!
For that is not theoretically
Possible, Fake Chinese markets
Significantly explained
With a P value of 0.05
And a good R square.
A good fit!
As Econometricians
Are often heard,
Exclaiming!
If this was poetry
Time would return
Its wrath and give
Tree fuckers, ass lickers and child fuckers
A banquet full of ethno fascist landfills
Garnished with religious and caste libido.
But, what we have now is just saliva of reviewers
Licking each other.
This poem is inspired by this article.
Bio:
Originally from Silchar, Assam, Goirick B lives in New Delhi. He has published three volumes of poetry. His latest collection of poems, Wet Radio and other poems (2017), was self-published via CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform. He is co-directing a City Symphony titled, Dilli Dur Ast, which is set to release in 2018.
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One Response to “Poem: Some direct talk, if you will”
The truth prevails in your poem. Such a complex world.