Thirty three years Alexander lived Shakespeare wrote his tragedies the teacher near our house ...in dhoti turned twice still ***** with yesterday's mud goes for another regret what am I doing?
The play was staged clowns and faces with paint their age twenty The man next door his face well known for the cycle he drew across the world where am I here? The lunatic in house arrest wants to breathe showing the foolish thumb to people on lanes but what am I doing?
What am I doing? Doing what? Doing what ? Till half past three into the night the question haunts my ribs A inadequate path, oozing with men flood but all headless clouds Am I one in them? All my life I have been placing this head The weared out head of mine In one body in another Trying to look into the mirror On which body does this head of mine look like me
the word dhoti used in this poem is a garment worn by male Hindus, consisting of a piece of material tied around the waist and extending to cover most of the legs.