seaboyman ~ poetry

Sea and desert

Like the jackfruit tree in our back yard- the barber said

Pointing behind- that grew tall got termites and went hollow

When it mattered- was my son- now in some gulf country

I know not the name of- I showed him the map on Google

Earth- first he tapped Yemen Qatar next and then he thought

The red sea was a country- he sprays water on my hair-

Combs it all to the left then to right and scissors- came once

In 2009- had two daughters of nine and six- I'm not good with

Names- both of them did not know my tongue- and found my

Business embarrassing- Paan brimming to his lips- goes out

And spits in front of Modern hair Saloon- taps on the bird cage

Which pecks back on the door of wire rather than on the seeds-

Comes back to say- you have to undertake the Hajj like it's

Your final journey- so the one thousand one debts had to go-

And that's when the Jack betrayed- fell with a thump of hollow

Vibration in the air which made the ears of the dealer breaks his

Sweet mask- runs the blade down the nape of my neck- cuts the

Dangling fringes in a V- like a flaccid black arrow with dandruff-

We have only given him a body- I think genetic material- he isn't

Really indebted to us but- he stops the shave- the foam in a straight

Line- rectified to the atoms- it reminds me of the sea crashing on

The beach- when he was four he lost grip and drifted a few feet away

And I had to rescue him- from what he called- the heart of the ocean

And I played along- talcum on my collar- brushing the hair off- but

Now- a decade later with small small savings accumulated- my wife and me

are going for Hajj- camps decided- food sorted out- with full peace-

I say Mecca Medina will take you closer to your son- and he taking the

Fifty rupee note- you cannot discern the distances on that touch phone of yours.

~Ajay
7/1/19