A bunch of hooligans
Sticky oil and rimmed specks
Sarees tightly pressed to their chest
Starched and pressed white shirts
White trimmed hair and bald head; shining
They were on me
And I went on them
Flouncing my wild hair,
And my ragged hair and ragged teeth
Ragged from eating a white tiger alive
In the wild I live.
I felt an erection
My spine stood straight
I never knew my hair had to voice
That I could hear
Until I gave it one.