Its an emotional embarrasment
To have pickled children
Drying beside jars if tomatoes
But you see
It has to be done
When you have peculated
Every damsel in the neighbourhood
The old gentleman with the tope
On a rainy day
He wears his raincoat inside out
To keep the frogs at bay.
His elbow steams with
Jasmine fragrance
His boots smell of food.
Its a mystery where he comes from.
The pickled children
Crying boo.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.