From A Poem

Chalet 010* 

After jokes, chatters and anger have simmered

         into subcon –

                 scio-

                     usness

floating as dreams

some colour their dreams

            with vexed snores 

 

This night is quiet

The pens rest

   in a grass-grown motel

A darkness having swallowed

     their ink

humming generators in the neighbourhood

             ossify the

        darkness... 

 

The pens dream about tomorrow

the smooth trip made, the ones to be made

Of His Royal Highness

and the blessings he’d give         ? 

Dream, the foetus

of a pregnant pen

This mosquitoless night shall midwife

 the tomorrow they dream

            (mountains, hills, rocks

 WATERFALLS, FUN) 

 

But, in their dreams

 do pens write a portrait

of a distraught, dis-eased fellow

in Chalet 010, astride the margin

of a bed, listlessly searching

for a fabric on which to spatter

magma

rumbling in his volcanic head? 

*The first motel room at Kafanchan, 24th August 2001, CWC excursion