untitled 17

Pickled in edgy times
pratap shinde buried a long-sick
crow in the mangroves abutting a line
of shacks.
a senior citizen,
mans a housing society on nights
with a lathi;
rushes to the gates as tipsy executives
file in and out spouting american slang
at any slack;
sees no purchase in being still.
was a weaver in a textile mill
till mills became malls,
denied dues by millowners with
swiss accounts.
his wife packed up like textile trade unions.
two sons run autos in magic vengurla
where the sea throws folk-taled fish.
sparrows have taken over the roof his shack;
cats stroll in and out of a doorless home
containing a bareness.
nights do not sleep shinde.
stretched on a string cot
dozes the day to the churn of an
unprivate city.