Like a marmoset
With those gripping fingers
Surprising strength
Stretched out full length
Ears like a headset
How far did the process of evolution go?
When did the revolution cease to be?
Ghoulish rituals thrice a year
Will not bring him back to me
Milk rice at Good Market
Big Bad Wolves at the market at night
All amidst the heavy duties
Of the noisy nothingness of the localese
The girl painting nails
Adds a little flower
Without being asked
And the fraudulent parade goes on
Blessed are the poor of eyesight
Who accept what seems to be
And can see no wrong
