I had always thought myself a Spiritual Genghis or the tulku of the Jebtsundamba Khutuktu
Till I read his 'Old Shantih Town' & became a forlorn shadow of Tambimuttu
All my years of trying, scrying, dying to become a Dad
I envied not this rotter till I saw his daughter daubs in a manner far from bad.
I envied not this rotter till I saw his daughter daubs in a manner far from bad.
Envoi
Prince! Thy Naukrates, so secure in oikos- grey marble grinds me green
So solitarily have I striven, a scion to sire, since scarce, sore, a teen.
No comments:
Post a Comment