Saturday, November 26, 2011

A Boy Dog

At home,
he is bound by
the rules and regulations
of obeisance
at five in the morning
and five in the evening;
he eats purified fare
true to custom
and execrates the
pathologies of the present day.

He is a son,
and he speaks in
the tongue of
his parents,
who do not relate
to him at all, really.
In secret,
he wastes away at home -
wallowing in
alternations of
self-pity and contempt,
hiding behind the mask of
a second-handed intellect.

Here,
he is a libertine,
a parader, stomping
through the carnival
of lust and boredom
sold cheap
on the internet -
he has too many boys.
He lingers in the corners
of foreign eyes and ears
so that they may
catch a glimpse of his
self-pity and take him home.

Here,
he is a single man
parading through
the rush of modernity
in a language he has borrowed
from white lies
and lurid tunes.
Too bad, Mr. Giovanni...

2 comments:

untraceable said...

This is so full of verve. It's impossible to read it just once! Especially with the way it ends.

Arjun Rajkhowa said...

Thanks. And I like your blog!