My comrades are silent!

Brothel-like,

white eyes of Bellagio Suites

stare into the crisp shadows hiding me–

forming from men hanging their day’s spent

on parallel lines of black cable wires

their now drenched, detergent smelling jerseys

leaves puddles on hot terraces.

 

While, I stand

Smell of coffee wafting

the yellow lights yellower than a jaundice patient

brighten more than the neighbor;s dusty car

I feel breezy

and hear caressing. Like waves falling one on top of other.

forming a effervescent froth on the top; a taste of saline

Fish pickled in vinegar.

 

But honestly, these silent beings,

made of flesh and concrete

steel and blood

stand uncomplaining

to my constant chatter

only speaking among the shadows

their long bodies cast.

 

But when I look,

far and wide;

a city far away

with far less people

with nevertheless, a million lights.

 

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Beach day

Vast expanses of beach sand

The dust, making my feet heavier

Leaving more heavier footprints

I walk towards the beach

 

The distance is

far more than I could remember

the farther I walk

the more father it walks away

Perhaps it’s the waves.

 

Or maybe once

The land that I walk on

Was all the sea

Until it receded.

 

Small kiosks of soda bottles

Of all colors; Red, green and yellow

Shops selling fresh, crispy fried fish

Horse riders looking for

More riders; making me smell horse shit and piss

 

A plate of bhelpuri that is stale

Prawns that taste undercooked

An overpriced coffee

An annoying woman dumping water bottles in the sea.

 

Dark skin men in maroon boxers

Some white women getting tanned

Tiny kids walking around; dangling their flaccid penises

Tiny teeny kids walking around; making it a pedophile’s heaven.

 

Sea washes away

And brings back dirt

Old bottles, and probably a dead body.

 

Yet the sea remains sickly green

Or is it of a shade of blue

Only trying to build another wave

Over another

Washing her tears of failure

To our knees.

 

Why? Why ? Why?

The sea just knows it all.

 

I laid my eyes

On a lighthouse

Near rocks and

Lashing waves hitting them

 

I began to run towards it

Barely moved; legs become heavier

I walk.

 

I walk and I drag myself

Noticing the couple spot

scattered twos and twos

Under the setting sun

Laying streaks of light

On the tiny pond in the middle

Those streaks moving along with my eyes.

 

The big lighthouse is in front of me

IS far far away from the sea

no rocks or lashing waves

Yet I am back on the road.

 

Everything I found on this beach

turned fake

Yet everything is fake!