Tuesday Weld was a frigger
She was friggin' everywhere and
Everywhere she went, she frigged
As a matter of fact
There wasn't a day that went by
In which Tuesday wouldn't frig

She frigged at the supermarket
She would frig at the mall
She frigged at the movies
She frigged at the gas-pump
She was caught frigging at the dentist
She even frigged down the shore

All her twenty-seven siblings
Worked the local house of ill-repute
It had a bar inside of it
And was Whorethorne's best kept secret
Even the police would get laid there (on Tuesdays)

Finally, the townspeople of Whorethorne
Could not take it anymore
And they burnt down The Barn
Then, just like Tuesday
They too
Went frigging nuts

Oh Annette Tidy, I would love to lick your ****
Show me that you like it, you **** loving ****
******* pulled beyond your hole, while kneeling like a mutt
Legs apart so far and wide, I don't want your ******* shut

Spread you cheeks across my face and open your hole wide
Pelvic thrusting on my tongue, while I'm slipping it inside
The taste of it is magical, when tongue and *** collide
I can lick your ***** too , but I'll let you decide

It's okay if your a *****, when it's ***** and bums to pluck
A Furry ***** is alright, it's still so good to ****
Soiled ******* I don't mind, they make my cockerel cluck
A touch of romance is quite fine, but so is a good ****

Oh Annette Tidy let me knock on your back door
You can show me your intentions, you filthy ******* *****
I doesn't matter that we're strangers, because our *** is raw
If your like the phone box says, then what are you waiting for?

So come on now get naked, and I will do the same
let me have your **** hole and a **** ******* game
According to the writings your a filthy kind of dame
I've read that your an **** ****, so your be glad I came

Oh Annette Tidy, I am on a real *** hunt
I would be so happy, if your proper ***** ****
Whether your a posh girl, or just a ******* munt
You need to get your knickers off, and I'll give it a punt

I'll be grabbing onto your ****, and It would be devine
Vigorous ******* may result, in hearing your **** whine
If your a cheater that's okay, it really is quite fine
As long as your cheating with me, and you are ******* mine

So push your **** upon me, let my **** slide in
I'd **** without a rubber sheaf, it's better on bare skin
I'm sure that you'll enjoy it, when your sitting on my pin
And **** old Dennis Richmond, cos I don't give a **** about him

Oh Annette Tidy, I fancy a real good ****
I am really hoping, your a ***** ******* ****
It doesn't matter if your good looking, or a dried up hag
***** lips are free to flutter, when I **** your fleshy flag

**** ******* is so good, what a fantastic feeling
The tightness squeezing on my rod, that's what I find appealing
Doing **** would be great, bent over or just kneeling
An ******* that is spread wide, is really quite revealing

So when my **** is hard enough I would stuff it in your ***
Fingers up your ***** and your ******* under thumb
A frigging is in order, because I want to feel your ***
******* in your tight hole, I would really give it some

Oh Annette tidy, let us have some ****** fun
Let me see you naked, and I will ***** your hot cross bun
I also like a wet ****, but these things must be done
For you squirt me with your juice, just like a Capri Sun

I hope that you like big *****, cos I have a nine inch ****
Because I'm not hung like those fellows, who are in Hong Kong
So I won't put it all in, in case it is too long
But if you want the whole lot, I'll make sure that it says strong

Are you such an **** *****, well I don't really know
You could be a real ***** ****, or just an average joe
If your not that kind of girl, then somewhere else I'll go
Because I'm looking to get ******, and a **** and blow

You maybe such a nice girl, and you get home by ten
So you might not be interested, in ridding my big ben
I'm sure there's **** ladies, who'd like playing in my pen
A **** time they can have, if I went round to their den

Are writings on walls true, you don't have to sit there idly
If you want an arrangement, I could ******* every Friday
Unless you are a nice girl, and your a bit like Heidi
And your up in the mountains thinking . . . . Oh Annette Tidy!

Dead in the center of her heart I found a minotaur.
Of all things a frigging minotaur.
I stood puzzled as we locked eyes.
When I stumbled upon him he was sleep with today's newspaper drenched across his lap.
He bounced up in full guard.
Me being me I asked him for simple directions.
Telling him that I thought I was lost.
I planned on seeing heart shapes maybe a butterfly or two.
A big bunny shape thing or two but you, just wow.
He grinned slightly and said yeah that's the first time I've heard that one.
One step further, I added.
I take it from the amount of drool on the side of your lip you've been sleep for quite a while.
Now I don't mean to intrude on your guarding the labyrinth thing but,
How about you let me *** a smoke and we'll talk about it at the nearest dinner.
After all who can be mad over breakfast

I finally figured a piece that could fit
     Decent enough to mention
          That gets deeper with each visit
     And though it wasn't my intention
       We invented vivid scriptures Shakespeare would weep to
           Crackheads could sleep to
       That's just the calm of absolution as it creeps through
         We never needed a deity's forgiveness or god to bear witness
   To this **** that we do behind closed doors cause in these moments I'm finally yours

      And that's all that should matter

"Go and talk to your son!". It seemed lately that every arrival at home, in the old section of Glasgow, began with "Go and talk to your son!". "Why?...what has he done this time"...answered Angus' dad. "What trouble did he get into now?". "None...so far as I can figure" answered Mary, mother of the aforementioned Angus.

"Then why am I going to talk to him?". " He's not selling autographs again is he".
"No dear, he's not...you should just go and have a wee chat with him...that's all."

"Alright, I will"...."will I need some hobnobs as ammunition, or should I be okay on me own?".
"You should be okay without them, but, then again, a wee plate of hobnobs never hurt anyone...least of all our Angus"

Dad, poured two glasses of cold milk, set six hobnobs on a plate and ventured up to himself's room. He knocked twice, just above the "No gurls alowd" sign that Angus had put up after last nights arguement with his Mum, over carrots. Angus refused to accept the arguement that carrots gave you better eyesight...while his Mum said they did. A snicker from Dad at Angus' response almost got him banished to the sofa for the night himself, with his own "No gurls alowd" sign going up in the living room. He remembered Angus standing up from his chair, and stating "If carrots give ye such good eyesight, how come so many rabbits get hit by cars at night?". Then he stormed off.

He knocked again, and Angus opened up the door. Angus was still in his blue school shirt and grey pants. "Can I come in?" asked his father. "I've brought milk...and hobnobs".
Angus stepped back and let his father enter the room. The walls were covered with posters, of cars, footballers, horses, bikes, cartoon characters....so much so, there was barely any space left for anything else.

"Yer mum said I should talk to you...son...do you know why?" "Nope"...said Angus..."do you?" "That's why I'm asking you lad....she told me to come see you...do you know why I'm here?"
Angus tilted his head and answered "because Mum told you too?".
It was clear they weren't getting anywhere with this, so Dad asked "How was school today?"

Angus was now in full time kindergarten at St. Martin's in The Fields Primary School in Glasgow. The school was old, dank, smelled of age and was one of the finest in all of Glasgow...for it's age. It was famous for having had two members of The Bay City Rollers as students, one for about three months and the other a little less. They never graduated from St. Martin's, but, it was something to hang their hat on.

"I got all my Christmas Cards taken away today Da." said Angus. "I was giving them out to everyone, and the teacher, Mr. McDonall came and took them away.".
"Why would he do that boy?"...."Where were you doing it?'
"I was outside before school started giving them out...." , Angus sniffed, "and he came over and grabbed them from me".
Dad, remembered Angus working away for the past two nights, printing everyone's name on the cards, as perfect as he could. It only took 43 cards to get the necessary 21 Angus needed for all of his young classmates.
"Why would he do that?"..."did he tell you why?". "No Dad" said Angus through the rapidly increasing flow of sniffles and snot that normally accompany a crying child.

"I didn't find out until I went to the office to see the Principal afterwards".
"You went to the office for handing out Christmas Cards?" . "That doesn't make any sense son, are you sure you weren't doing anything else?"
"I was just handing out cards Da, that's all", said Angus as he grabbed another hobnob, which he quickly stuffed under his pillow for later. He would get in trouble for that one, but, it would be worth it.

"The Principal said something about Christmas Cards that say Christmas on them, can't be given out at school anymore. They can only say Happy Holidays. If it doesn't say Christmas on it, how can it be a Christmas Card Dad?".

"I don't know boy"...."but I am **** sure gonna find out"....and "you'd better eat that hobnob under your pillow before Mum sees it"...smiled Dad.

The pair ventured downstairs for dinner, neither discussing what went on in the room where "No gurls were allowed". Dinner passed in silence, with Mum looking from one to the other to get some sort of reaction. Once, Angus started to talk, but it had nothing to do with what went on between Father and Son, so she continued eating. She would find out later after Angus went to bed.

After dinner, Angus went to the park with his friends for an hour to play football, and tag, and swing on the swings for a while. Mum, took this chance to corner Dad...and corner him she did...."What went on up there? What did you two talk about?" "He won't say anything to me...what did he do?"
"Nothing....he did nothing wrong at all, so as I see it....Angus didn't do anything wrong".
He kind of smiled at that, because normally after being told "Go talk to your son...", Angus had always done something wrong...this time...it was The Principal.

"Tomorrow, I'm staying home in the morning and taking himself to school....I'm going to see The Principal". "What for?...if he didn't do anything wrong, why are you going to see the Principal?".
"Well, what time of the year is it?".....asked Dad. "It's Christmas silly, you know that...why?"
"Well, apparently it isn't Christmas at St. Martin's in The Fields...at least not as far as himself's teacher and new Principal are concerned. It's now Holiday time....not Christmas Time, Holiday Time. Our wee Angus got in trouble for handing out Christmas cards at Christmas. Does that make any sense?"...said Dad.

The next morning at breakfast, Angus looked up and asked "Dad, shouldn't you be going to work? you'll miss your train.". "I'm taking you to school and going to see your Principal, son". "Why?" asked Angus. "Let's just say I'm going to give him a Christmas Card....have you seen my bible?".
"It's on the sideboard...but, why do you need that Da?"...asked the boy.
"Let's just say...to make a point.".

Mum smiled as the two men, both wee and tall, walked together hand in hand down the drive towards the school. Upon arrival, Angus went off with his friends, while Dad, went into the old, intimidating looking institution. He could smell the old wood soap and mustiness as he waled down the hall, past the class pictures and the old trophies that get hauled out and cleaned every year for games day, only to be put back again after the awards presentations.

Upon arriving at the office, he announced "I'm here to see The Principal.....where is he?".
A pair of beady, spectacled eyes looked up from behind the front desk...and in a thin, reedy, voice asked..."And who might you be, sir...to come in without an appointment?".
"Ah'm flippin' Father Christmas, that's who I am....I am Angus' Mc Dougalls dad, and I am here to see the ****** Principal. Now where is he?"
"Without and appointment.." she started, quickly stopping when Dad, walked past the desk to the door marked M. Dingwall, Principal on it.

"You can't go in there"...screeched the reedy voice..."not without an.." "I know..." said Dad..."not without an appointment.....well, I've got mine right here, and right now..." he said, waving his bible in needle noses face. He continued in to M. Dingwall, Principal's office....and sat down.

M. Dingwall, Principal...looked up from the papers on his desk, which incidentally had 5, yes...5 Christmas Cards on it, and asked Dad..."and who are you to come into my office..."...."without and appointment"...finished Dad. " As I told your chihuahua out front, all bark and no bite by the way, I am frigging Father Christmas, who I see on 3 of the 5 cards you have on your desk. That's who I am, Father Christmas !!!"

"Well, Mr. Christmas, what can we do for you? " asked a clearly shaken M. Dingwall, Principal. "I'll tell you what you can do for me....you can apologize to my son, for a start. My wee lad Angus, came here yesterday morning and was sent to see you for handing out Christmas Cards, at Christmas. What am I missing here?".

"I remember that....yes, he was disciplined and told no more Christmas Cards, it's against the policy of the school board...it's a religious holiday, and we are not allowed, with all of the various religious groups represented within our walls to favour one over another. So, no more Christmas Cards in this school. That is the policy.", said M. Dingwall, Principal.

"That's nice...then what are those 5 cards on your desk....the ones that happen to have Christmas on them and Father Christmas and a nativity scene, which if I know the book I am holding here, is a religious representation, and the reason we have Christmas in the first place. "...asked Dad.

"Those are private, they were given to me by staff" said M. Dingwall, Principal. "I don't care if they came from Jesus Christ himself " yelled Dad, crossing himself in the process, "They don't fit in with the policy you gave my son a reprimand for yesterday."  He looked about the office, and saw a small, four foot tall tree in the corner as well. "Is that a Christmas tree or a holiday tree sir?, which is it?"

M. Dingwall looked up and said, "It's a Christmas Tree, of course, haven't you ever seen a..." and he stopped. He looked at the tree, and the cards, The eyeglasses out front went back to whatever it was she was doing before Father Christmas arrived. "I see....". "You see what sir,?" asked Angus' dad, looking at the tree, and the cards and ignoring the eyeglasses with the reedy voice out front.

"I see your point....It's Christmas, not holdaymas, or xmas....it's Christmas, and I followed policy that I myself am not following myself. I will change that right now....imagine, it took a visit from Father Christmas to get me to see the light..." laughed M. Dingwall, Principal.

"My boy Angus, will be in class, expecting to be told that he can give out his cards to the rest of his friends as he was yesterday...am I understood M. Dingwall, Princinpal?" asked Dad.

"Yes sir, the mark will be stricken from the record and his cards will be returned....I appreciate you coming in to clear up this little misunderstanding...even if you didn't ..." "I know...have an appointment.". M Dingwall stood to shake Dad's hand as he left, and as Dad reached the door, he said "Merry Christmas". Dad thought a bit, smiled at what he had just accomplished and said to M. Dingwall, Principal...."and yes...It is A MERRY CHRISTMAS".

I don't know.
I'm sad
and I'm mad
about being so sad.
Because I know life isn't so bad,
and I'm trying to add
more of the happiness I've previously had
and I'm so dang glad
I mean, I can see the blessings I have.
But no matter how bad
I want to not be sad
or how hard I try...
I still sit here with tears in my eyes
and I'll tell you "I'm fine."
And you know it's a lie;
I'm holding on for dear life.
I am tired
and the fire
in my eyes?
Along with my cloudy heart,
and the cloudy skies;
those flames
are dimming
going out with the city lights
in the middle of the night
Like if I just hide
and take some time
to get things right
The despair will somehow
dissapear from my mind.
Maybe if I try
being kind
to myself
...and my heart and my mind
I will be fine
sometime.

You broke my heart
And threw it in a pile of dirt
I have no enemies
However, worse are you, than an enemy
Because, betrayal leaves scars
Which are even bigger than cars
And take as much time to heal
As it does, to complete a CA course
Which is of course, a huge deal!

You broke my heart
And caused me a lot of hurt
Truly did I care for you, you know
Thus, was it a massive blow
When we came to know the truth
Which destroyed the earth
On which my love was built
Since, loyal was I, to a fault

You broke my heart
And turned it into a shopping cart
You took advantage of my compassion
And used it as ammunition
For your deceitful modus operandi
However, thanks to the rescue operations
Led by my best friend and my sister
We put an end to the matter
However, rather protracted and tedious
Was the divorce process
And ultimately richer did you get, by a frigging four lakhs
For absolutely no fault of ours!!

You broke my heart
And ensured I nearly fell apart
However, healing am I
Slowly but surely
Thanks to my dear family
As well as my circle of friends
Not to mention, a few close cousins
All of whom ensure, I suffer not, for your sins
Our relationship may have had a bitter end
However, I am now free
And no longer, will I carry
The burden of a relationship
Which, in hindsight, was always going to be doomed
Even without all the cheating and manipulation
Of course, I may have to apply some caution
When it cometh to future relationships
However, I now understand the value of friendship
Better than ever!!

You broke my heart
However, I am making a conscious effort
To put all this behind
With the help of family, cousins and friends
As well as therapy
Of course, not always am I happy
But I am healing for sure
This experience having ensured
That I am working harder than ever
And allowing myself to be bored, never

I repeat, you broke my heart
However, you have made me more alert
I am now stronger than ever
And will allow myself to be cheated, never
What you did proved to be a blessing in disguise
Because, it has made me wise
And just a matter of time is it
Before my broken heart eventually heals!!

Don’t talk to me, I’m not in the mood

I’m tired, I feel sick, I have gone off my food

I have got heart burn, piles and I’ve got a sore back

Don’t argue with me, I won’t cut you any slack

I have got big, black bags, under my eyes

I look like I have eaten to many pies

I have stretchmarks, I look like a frigging map

The baby kicks me in the ribs when I'm trying to take a nap

I'm forever hot, I forever sweat

My ******* leak, my tops always wet

When I walk, I puff and I pant

I can’t wait to have this baby, I hate being Pregnant

When I met you
I developed an instant liking
Though it was not in a romantic sense
You seemed to be a bit shy
But at the same time, quite friendly
Not to mention, down-to-earth
We got along nicely
And when I met your family
I was impressed
Not due to wealth, class or social status
But because of the fact that they were all very good human beings
With no attitude or airs whatsoever
And they were already okay to accept me as one of their own
Well, we soon started speaking over the phone
On a daily basis
And since we had developed a good understanding
I agreed to marry you
The engagement was a simple affair
But I got the feeling
That we were a cute couple
Especially when we took you on a trip
Right after the engagement
As I mentioned earlier
Though I didn't have any romantic feelings
When I first met you
They soon started to develop
During the period between the engagement and the marriage
I even funded your marriage expenses
Because I trusted you
Never did I imagine
That you would eventually betray my trust
Especially after the date we had in Pondicherry
Of course, COVID19 struck
And our marriage had to be postponed indefinitely
Naturally, you were very upset
I myself was quite depressed
But I thought we could at least talk it out
Instead, you started avoiding me
As well as my family
I let it slide
Since I truly loved you
Eventually, after a week or so, we started talking again
However, things were definitely not the same as earlier
I could sense a lack of enthusiasm from your side
Moreover, you were free to talk only around 9 PM
Though ideally you should have been free throughout the day
Considering you lost your job due to COVID
Something for which you were duly compensated
By my father, who kept sending you money every month without fail
Anyway, I let it slide again
Because I loved you
On the eve of our wedding, I wrote a heart-touching poem
Which was appreciated by almost everybody
Except the person for whom it was written
That is, you
Anyway, I thought things would change
Once the wedding finally happened
However , they didn't
I made many attempts to strike a conversation
But you were only interested in watching your precious serials
I too began to watch them, for your sake
Mind you, I am no fan of serials
But I thought I should make an exception
For my dear wife
However, was I ever dear to you?
You never talked to me on your own
And when I tried to talk to you
You kept repeating the same thing
That we would eventually talk at some stage
I kept wondering and wondering
As to when that "stage" would eventually arrive
Then came the ultrasound pregnancy test
With its shocking results
From then on, you were a changed person
You kept clinging to me
And refused to let me out of your sight
You even forced me
To stop talking to my best friend
And your own best friend did her best
To make me feel as guilty as possible
Blinded by love, as I was
I refused to listen to reason
Believing that you were being discriminated against
Because of your class and caste
When you finally confessed
That you had slept with another guy
You couldn't even look me in the eye
Because of your betrayal, I went through depression
For more than a month
I am not going to waste my time
Discussing the tedious and protracted divorce process
But you took advantage of me
And my frigging autism
You lied to me and cheated me
And I loved you
Yes, it sounds difficult to believe
But I genuinely loved you
And was thus made to suffer
It's time all feminazis take note of this
Rather than jumping into conclusions
And blaming the male whenever there is a divorce
Or even an estrangement
That's all I have to say
Amen!

The Cons fed no rations...hahaha

The house breaking Burglars are Chris, Joan, Tom and Kelly
Ably assisted by Jim and Cindy, the black and white *******
who broke up their families, move in together, to **** each other
Life's too short, forget abandoned spouses, what the hell, ok
Then there's Linda, who's had three husbands in ten years
all leaving after a while, leaving her with two kids
to look after, what a palaver, where's a true lover
These ******* ****, use and take then do a runner
Her trust in ******* men ruined to pieces and no nookie

All dysfunctional lives, full of pain, angry at the world
Yes we're in Limehouse, but do we have to **** sour juice
They're all seeking to vent, seeking revenge for their miseries
Look that couple upstairs, always bright, styled like Vogue
neat and tidy, full of laughter, going places, yuppie cts
See quiet husband, walks like Bowie, with a kin of **** swagger
And the wife so cute and petite, drives the shiny Red Mini
He ***** her every night, I hear them, I tell you
Their skins glows, shines like the sun, too happy by half

Chris the Scot married to strife and bother
The criminal life is such wahala, police here and there
its hide and seek, no money, no nookie, no nothing
Well OK, there's Tennants and Special Brew to drown the blues
****** hubby again in Wormwood Scrubs serving ******* Majesty
Tom ain't stealing as much as father, have to beg next door again
Joan is ******* and ain't making no money, now in the duff
only fifteen, by ******* Nobby, from the Young ******* Socialist Brigade, Kelly is also ******* and only twelve, what a life
Ahh ....  life on the Estate is life in *******

Listen you all, here's the deal, here's the number
Those ******* Happy couple at number fifteen
Why ain't them struggling like us all, where's the cushty
You don't see them carping, the ******* are loaded,
Them knobs have it all, smiling and laughing like *******
Let put some fire up their *****, let's teach them street life
Hears they think they are royalties, let tax their ****** *****
I'll be the lookout, you kick in the ****** doors
Liberate their valuables, we'll all have a party

******* Nora, the quiet man has blown a frigging gasket
Says he gonna tell all we are crooks, gonna evict us, the fool
Go get the posse, go put out a contract, a ****** for the jump
We are Eastenders, born by Bow bells, and we look after our own
How ****** dare the toffee nosed tory, says I should go get a job
as if, working for honest gain is our thing, ****** idiot
Yes mate, the boys are out, the contract is on
Let's see Jackanory tell us a bleeding story
Hero to Zero is now playing at Roman Street market

Break them up, mash  them down, ruin their lives
lets play 'trading Places, see how the cts feels
I already see cool man strung up. dangling on a rope
How dare they live happy and comfortable
two wages, car, dining out, new attire every day
Come on Jim, Cindy, Linda, all go get your mates
There's work to be done, no time to play
We are the TUC, that's Thieves United Confederation
And we've got the ******* Red Boys in the Team

It's down Tobacco road for Mr Tory, the bleeding ******
Ain't no more laughter, we'll put them in the gutter
Lie and slander, defame and harass, topple Saddam
Get the ******* Red mill going, its round Robin time
How's yer father,  no more mate, not ****** likely for a while
Yer only leg-over is gonna be legging it to the Social Security
Its Dole time, pain and miseries for you sunshine
Sing a song of hate, pariah on a roundabout
Yer marathon man now mate, come meet the Red Devils

Here, They need no ******* introduction

The intimate mountain--
Weekends in a mercury supermarket--
And the nearly vindictive lilt in
Your voice when you drop the
Last 'T' in restaurant!

Perhaps for just a few months
We might dispense with the honorifics,
Because we each know perfectly
Well your finger-ring has a smile
For no one but me.

The first autumn was always impossible for me
(or at least it will be).
Winds winding like a clarinet--
A boulangerie cover of
Dies Irae.

Now where have I misplaced my
Sensory glands? Charles
Walks an intricately awkward emphasis
In ungodly,
Strangely comfortable stilettos.

The emcee has no frigging
Idea what the people want to hear anymore.
His serape and his wine--
Not to mention his women,
Although I have just now.

Poor little frog.
It looses owners off its skin
Like tadpole-seeds, over
A game of backgammon
That never really cheats anybody.

The abandoned LiveJournal account.
The forgotten Myspace passwords.
The iPod that hasn't been updated in years.
The body slumped on a threadbare sofa.
The broken earbuds and busted eardrums.

Start spreading the news:
I've already left.
Go and empty the pews;
My mother bereft.
And the Chamber of Commerce wants to blame the ****** on me.

Slang..
Chick-fil-a = the best place ever
jade = *****
brooke = gorgeous
mishin = the boss, as in “You aren’t the boss of me.”

We’re on vaycay. School is OVER, COVID is over. We’re in New York City and we’re doin’ the town this time. Lisa told me, “You showed me Paris last summer, now I’m going to show you New York City.” Her mom, Karen, smiled and gave a little sideways, “Yes, yes we ARE’ nod.

Leong and Sunny, two of my Yale roommates, and my BF Peter are staying in Lisa’s (parent’s) 50th floor Manhattan apartment for the week. The apartment is singularly stunning, with its all-glass views of Central Park and the city, but it only has five bedrooms - so we’re doubled up a bit.

One of the things that makes Manhattan chick-fil-a, is that the Broadway theaters are 15 minutes from Lisa’s door. You step out, whirl around Columbus Circle and you’re on Broadway! Minutes later, you’re in your seat, Oh, and don’t forget to get the cinnamon crusted almonds.

We saw ‘Bad Cinderella’ the night before last - that was only a ‘West End’ show (I’m learning to be a Broadway snob). Tonight, we’re going to see Hamilton. Last night, we saw ‘Hadestown.’ I didn’t know anything about ‘Hadestown,’ but Leeza (Lisa’s 13 year old sister) has seen it three times now.

We’d just finished lunch and Lisa started off a debate. “Is Orpheus (one of Hadestown’s leading characters, played by Reeve Carney) superhot - the hottest man alive - or is he the littlest jade ever?
“He’s brooke,” Leeza swooned dreamily, fanning her face as if it’s hot, “I’d definitely hit that.”
Lisa gasped, “shutUP, you aren’t “hitting” anyone.
Leeza’s been driving Lisa up-the-wall all morning. We had Pancakes and bacon for breakfast and Leeza’s been all rude and maple sugar buzzed ever since.
“You aren’t mushin,” Leeza snorted, and as Lisa gave her a threat-laden look, Leeza finished with, “that man can get it.”
I’ve seen this before - and these sisters are heading for it.

Leong adds “Orpheus sees a submissive woman in distress. What he thinks he sees, is a typically beautiful woman, by societal standards, who he knows nothing about - and he’s like, ‘I want to marry you.”
Sunny leaned into the conversation fiercely, saying, “He doesn’t KNOW her! Wouldn’t you just punch that guy in the face?”
“Probably,” I answered, laughing, “if he weren’t in a frigging MUSICAL!”

“Excuse me,” Lisa interrupts, “you’re telling me that this scene doesn’t perpetuate the idea that only looks matter?” As one of the most beautiful women in the WORLD, Lisa is sensitive to objectification.

Sunny adds, “One reason to cancel him - I assume we’re trying to cancel him now - is that he sees a woman in distress and says ‘that’s the one, the love of my life,’ - a beautiful woman who can’t survive on her own.”

“She didn’t need him,” I suggested, “he was a burden on her.”    
Peter, who’s been working away on his laptop, looked up and said, “I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

Leeza, snarked, “Then go back to your little coding.”
I think I gasped and Peter looked a little shocked.

When Lisa, who’d gotten up to get some ice, heard that comment from Leeza, she said, “THAT’S IT,” in a steely voice.

Leeza, who was sitting with her back to the kitchen on the huge white sectional, had a millisecond to look over before Lisa pounced on her. She came in from her backside rolling over onto Leeza, trying to cover her mouth.

Leong, and Sunny, who’d never seen these to wildcats at it before, squealed and flinched out of the way. Peter, an only child, found this delightful and hilarious. He burst out laughing with glee, as he too, cleared some space.

“You’re trying to silence me!” Leeza yelled, giggling and grabbing Lisa’s arms as they got into a full, sister wrestling, flailing ball of hair and arms. Rolling off the couch and onto the floor. “SHUT UP,” Lisa demanded at the top of her voice.
“She’s trying to silence me!” Leeza howled again, “I will not be silenced!” This match continued for a hot minute until Lisa got Leeza’s arms pinned with her knees.
“Apologize!” Lisa said, out of breath, as she began to ponytail her hair.

“Excuse me,” Leeza yelled, herself gasping for breath but trying to blow strands of her red hair out of her face and wiggle free. “I’d like my lawyer - get OFF me - you ******* Karen!”

When that doesn’t work Leeza starts yelling, “HELP, MOM, ****!!” at the top of her lungs.

Karen, on a laptop in a glass walled alcove just off the living room, had seen the whole everything. Folding down her laptop lid, she stuck her head out and said, “Girls.”

Then Michel, their dad, is in the doorway, “What are you two doing?” He asked softly.

The fight immediately broke up, Lisa and Leeza sheepishly disengaging. “Nothing,” they said, together in near perfect union. Lisa gave Leeza a wide-eyed, tilted head look and Leeza said, “I’m sorry Peter, I was only foolin’ around.”
“I know,” Peter replied, chuckling, “but it was worth it.”

Sunday - drum roll please - this Sunday (Mother’s day), we’re going to see Taylor Swift in concert.
On Monday, Peter and I jet off to Paris (and Saint-Tropez) for 10 days. He’ll get to meet my Grandmère and Uncle Remy - I’m SO hyped.

I’m squeezing a lot into the first three weeks of summer. My fellowship starts June 1st, and that’ll take all of June and July. I can’t wrap my head around being a junior next year. Where’s the time GONE?

I have been yearning for true love
For years and years
For decades and decades
I have seen it in movies
I have read it in books
But to experience it in real life
Is a different feeling altogether
Of course, when you have lived
For as long as thirty two years
It is utterly impossible
Not to fall in love
At least once, or maybe even twice
And I am not even counting crushes
They are as ephemeral
As the life of a mayfly is
The love bug has bitten me twice
However, on both occasions
The love has been more lop-sided
Than the recent Men's Ashes
On the first occasion
I was slower than a snail
By the time I finally confessed my feelings
The girl was already engaged
On the second occasion
It was an arranged marriage
After two initial meetings
Followed by two months
Full of frequent phone calls
We had a rather simple engagement
Since then, it was apparent
That the going was smooth
Even if it was a long-distance relationship
However, just before the wedding
The pandemic chose to strike
The marriage had to be postponed
By five frigging months
Consequently, things were never the same again
Mind you, I was very much in love
But, as I mentioned earlier
It was a long-distance relationship
And I could sense
That slowly, but surely
The girl was beginning to fade away
And the marriage, when it eventually happened
Was an absolute trainwreck
Now, a year and a half later
I am single again
And the quest for true love continues
This time, I hope and pray
That when I do fall in love again
It will be duly reciprocated
And will be as long-lasting
As the love
That my family has for me

You called me your guiding star
That's quite true.
I burnt myself
and risked my whole existence
Just to light you way
For a few second

You called me your anchor
That's quite true
I sunk myself
To keep you at one place

You compared me with the moon
I get it now why
I scarred myself for life
just to be noticed,
To stand out
from the darkness
all around me

I gave you my all,
'cause i thought i could be your all
I tried to fix you
ignoring how in the process
I almost bled myself to death
I swallowed shards of glass
and yet never let my smile falter
I Wiped Your Tears
While Mine Were Left Abandoned
To Dry On Their Own
I tried healing your wounds
while mine got deeper

And I swear
I tried my best
To spare our friendship
Losing my love was bad enough
but my best friend too?
How on Earth
was i supposed to get through this

So,
I stayed
Put on my daily show
but you knew me
too well to fall for that facade
And that's whAT hurt most
the warmth in your eyes
that once felt like home
sheltering me from world's cold ways
was now gone
replaced
replaced by this coldness

Your skin
was the only home i ever knew
but i realized,
i was not welcome any more*
And I relized that
that hardest way possible
yet i stayed
'cause i just could not leave
I did not know how to leave
I loved you so frigging much
and everything just kept getting worse
YOU WERE NO LONGER THE SUN
but a blackhole
swallowing all the good memories
devouring them all
till there was not a trace of light
inside me
till there was nothing left to me
till i became the ghost
of the girl who i used to be
And all those good days
they seem like a distant dream
and i don't even know if what i'm writing
makes any sense
my hands won't stop shaking
or my head shouting
it keeps yelling
YOU NEVER FELL FOR ME
YOU SLIPPED
UNKNOWINGLY
A MISTAKE'YOU REGRET EVERY DAY

All of us, at some stage or the other
Have had certain experiences
Which have changed our lives forever
For the better, or for the worse
Of course, if it were the latter
We would have developed scars
Some of these scars
Take as much time to heal
As it takes, to place a human being on the Moon!!

Look at me, for example
Happy being single, at the age of thirty
Except for some work stress, of course
All it took, for everything to change
Was that infernal M-word

Well, it was but natural
That I would be apprehensive at first
However, as I got to know the girl
My heart told me
That I was on the right track

A couple of meetings
At my place
And then at her place
Followed by a month full of daily phone calls
And my decision was made

Our engagement was quite the tiny affair
My heart though, told me
That we were a cute couple
My brain was sure not
Of course, you all know
That I always follow my heart
And so it was, in this case too

Well, there were a few red flags
However, overruled was my brain, once more
On a roll, was my heart
I had everything in life
Or so did I think

Just was I getting ready
To tie the knot
When the pandemic struck
Suddenly, did everything look uncertain

So upset did my fiancee become
She stopped talking to me
Nor was my family spared
Though hardly was it our fault

Well, after a week or so
The silence was finally broken
However, never were things the same again

Often would we run out of topics to discuss
Except for a few mundane ones
For instance, what we had for dinner etc etc
And would she make herself available
Only around 9 PM
This was but a red flag
Which did I fail to recognise, yet again
Because she had lost her job, due to COVID19

As always, did my heart overrule my brain, yet again
And thus did we go ahead with the wedding
Much to my relief, must I say
Since it was but almost five months
Post that accursed lockdown

So, again did I think
That I had everything in life
How wrong was I to be

Right from the beginning
Her lack of interest was obvious
Even on my birthday
Did she fail to spend time with me
However, as always
Did my heart give her the benefit of doubt
Paying absolutely no heed
To the objections raised by my poor brain

Well, this was just the tip of the iceberg
Compared to what was about to follow
When her infidelity was exposed
Never once, did she let me out of her sight
Far from not showing interest
Did she become super possessive
As sudden as a heart attack

My best friend did her best to warn me
Which only ended up turning my wife
Into a jealous ******
Forcing me to cut my bestie off
Which was but one of the worst moments
In my entire life

However, so determined was my best friend
That she gave up not
And, along with my sister
Ended up saving me from total disaster

Though I was ultimately relieved
My now estranged wife's behaviour
Still did prove to be enough
To induce in me, a state of depression
Which lasted for more than a month

Apart from my best friend
And a few close relatives
No one was to know this
Thus, every time was the topic of my marriage raised
Did I have to keep up the facade
And pretend everything was fine
Which failed not, to **** me from the inside

Also, it helped not
That, tedious to the extreme
Was the divorce process
Not to mention, getting further delayed
Thanks to that infernal pandemic

Nor did it help
That my to-be-divorced wife
Threw a few tantrums
Every now and then
In the form of a few messages
Which reeked of utter desperation
Also was I forced, by my lawyer
To maintain a strict silence
Even if it, as always
Killed me from the inside

There was but a silver lining
In all this darkness
Finally, did my brain come to the fore
After being overruled many a time
By my rather naive and impulsive heart

Well, ultimately was the divorce done
But not before we were forced
To pay that wretched girl
A frigging four lakhs
On "humanitarian" grounds
That too, after her outrageous refusal
To return all the jewellery
That we had bestowed upon her
Out of sheer love and compassion

Well, this entire experience has failed not
To leave inside me a few scars
That run rather deep
And may take as much time to heal
As it does for England
To win a Football World Cup!!

My therapist calls this experience "traumatic"
I agree not with her
However, I can equally deny not
That it has indeed affected my life
In a rather adverse manner
My self-confidence, in particular
Has taken a bigger beating
Than did Pakistan's bowlers yesterday
At the hands of Warner and Marsh!!

Yes, we must indeed embrace our scars
However, to expect that to happen
Within a span of two years
Is like asking India to win a Football World Cup
Given that, at present
They are not even able to qualify in the first place!!

Yes, we must indeed embrace our scars
Because they doth prepare us
For mightier challenges ahead
And life is full of such things
However, the first thing to do
Would be, to accept them in the first place
And more importantly, acknowledge them
Because, only when are we kind to ourselves
Can we truly heal
And this doth apply
Even to the tiniest of wounds!!

Don't talk to me about rules of Engagement
What's knowledge, wisdom and Truth
nothing but a tag on a Robert Grahame shirt
What do you mean decency, fair-play and Justice
was your God fair and just when he landed me in Goebbels
and give me to that drunkard thief and his street gal wife
Oh no, I don't deserve a silver spoon and a dad in Stockbroker belt
yeh, no Private School, no allowance, no frigging ski trips in Gstaad
Bollinger sounds like a gun, pink gins and cucumber wedges foreign

Don't talk living harmoniously with all classes and races
I live my way and make my rules as I go along
the first law is do it to them before they do it to you
education is ****, if God wanted me to have a mind he forgot
what he gave was a gob full of **** and a Doctorate in telling lies
in our world telling the truth means you're blind, slow and stupid
I ain't a mug but a mugger, I ain't a fool,I only live to fool the fools
Am a hater and proud of it, why was I assigned to the Losers section
What made God decide my gob is not good enough for a Silver spoon

Don't you dare give me that glib 'That's Life' ****'
keep your philosophizing to your bleeding self
we ain't buying claptrap anymore, it's war now, revolution
it's them and Us. no quarter given, everything taking from the rich
what gives you the right to live better than me. Mr High an Mighty
who brooker your deal with God for all the privileges you enjoy
swanning around thinking you're better than me in your Ivory gaff
hate burns relentlessly, my frustration unabashed I join satan's lot
Yes, it's not a frigging fair world so don't talk to about Justice an love

Far away from today,
There is something vital I must say
Your life meant frigging dirt to me
6ft under was your destiny.

Would I still be me
If I did not have
These fancy words to bleed

I'm the pebbles in my pocket
That keeps me drowning
Farther into depth
I'm the frigging rescue boat too
And I'm yet learning
how to deal with that

I like to sit and watch
The world
Never bothering to participate
I like to live in my past
And wish on the stars
That are long dead


would I still be me
If I did not have
these fancy words to bleed

I'm the only cloud in my own sky
Blotting a perfect view.
I'm the blazing sun too.
And I'm trying to learn how
To take responsibility
If It rains down on me

I like to dodge away
All these sad incidences
I turn them into art, When they hit me
I like to use my words
To guide me out of my own head; It's the only time i make sense to myself


Would I still be me
If I did not have
these fancy words to bleed?

I'm the lonely dandelion
Having myself blown away
To the ten directions
I'm the wind too
Challenging everything that
Gets in my way

I like to look at the trees
I like to have the wind whisper my name
I would like to be you
I would like to be him
Without ever losing the essence
Of my true self


Would I still be me
If I did not have
these fancy words to bleed

Does expectation ever stop?
When you are at school
You are expected to get good marks
In all the subjects
Your life is decided
By your ability to memorise things
You are compared with others
Your cousins, your neighbours
Your friends, your classmates
All the time
You, as an individual
Are reduced to a mere shadow

Does expectation ever stop?
When you are at college
You are expected to achieve a high CGPA
Never mind the fact
That not getting arrears
Is practically an achievement
Especially as far as engineering is concerned
And if you happen to fail
People speak in whispers or hushed voices
When referring to you
And when you graduate
But fail to land a placement
You are seen as "that jobless guy"
And your character traits, whether good or bad
Turn out to be immaterial
In the mad race for status

Does expectation ever stop?
When you are a working professional
You are constantly asked about your salary
And it is compared
With that of every frigging relation of yours
Whether close or distant
Not to mention, neighbours
And their families as well

Does expectation ever stop?
When you are single
People constantly bring up marriage
As though it is something
That any decent human being must go through
And when you are married
Your wife also becomes a victim
Of all these crazy expectations
And you, as a couple
Are also compared to other couples

Does expectation ever stop?
When you get divorced
People keep poking and prying
Until they finally manage to extract from you
All the juicy details
But these vultures don't stop at that
They also want to know
When will your next marriage be
Your freedom means absolutely nothing to them

Does expectation ever stop?
When you are overweight
You are constantly advised
To go to the gym
Go for morning or evening walks
And again you are compared
With everyone who is slimmer than you
In the entire neighbourhood

Does expectation ever stop?
Being a good person is not enough
Having a good job is not enough
Earning a decent salary is not enough
Having a good family is not enough
In fact, nothing is ever enough
You practically need to become God
In order to satisfy the expectations
Of our ultra-greedy society
A society that never stops expecting
Until you are dead
Seriously, does expectation ever stop?

A pensioner's long walk today,
Yes, the mailman's been, no yah!
What  bills did arrive this way?
Postman, postman, stay away,
I am putting up a sign,
"BAN THE BILLS!' about frigging time!
If all bill payers went on strike,
Bills would go down, not upwards hike,
Yes, it's that dreaded long walk again,
Should I throw the bills down the drain?
A gutter too far, or in the bin?
Bringing us bills is the postman's great sin,
Can't afford that, can't afford that,
"I'll shoot you, postman, now don't come back!"
Is shooting postmen a capital offence?
"BAN THE  BILLS!" on everyone's fence!

The Kid sits
opposite
the wheelchair

with Anne
telling him
about her

painful leg
when it aches
it frigging

drives me mad
she tells him
she pulls up

her red skirt
to show him
the naked

stump of leg
yet it aches
in the part

that's not there
she explains
he gapes at

the fleshy
stump of leg
why is that?

he asks her
how the heck
would I know

pull that down
this moment
the nun says

angrily
coming near
from the home

her black and
white habit
flapping quick

about her
Anne stares
at the nun

what's got your
white knickers
in a twist?

she utters
to the nun
who do you

think you are
showing off
your leg stump?

she yanks down
the red skirt
to cover

the leg stump
don't touch me
you penguin

Anne says
decency
my young girl

you Benny
why are you
watching her?

the nun asks
I showed him
where it hurts

Anne says
you shouldn't
show your leg

it's my leg
what is left
don't be rude

the Kid looks
at the nun
just looking

what she showed
just her stump
he explains

you mustn't
the nun says
anymore

doing that
young Anne
and I'll tell

Sister Paul
and the nun
walks away

her habit
flapping slow
about her

as she walks
what a dumb
arsed penguin

Anne says
they both watch
the young nun

as she walks
on the lawn
to the home

for sick kids
by the sea
anyway

that's my leg
or the stump
do you want

another
look and see?

That rather awkward moment
When you try to find a rhyme
So you bend over backward
Trying to keep time
And it ends up sounding forced
Even slightly trite
Like you literally sat there
All frigging night
And sweated and banged
Your head on a wall
Trying to come up with
Anything at all
That would sound like a rhyme
Because you are a poet
And you've written before
Though no one would know it . . .
There is such a thing
As a poem with no rhyme
It's called free-verse, ******* -  
You should try it sometime.

It was off Harper Road
on some bombsite
houses half standing
half rubble
you and Jim
and some other kids
were climbing
amongst the ruin

the holidays just begun
the sun shining
on your heads

Coppers!
one kid shouted
and you all began
to climb out
of the ruined house
and onto the rubble

a police car had parked
on the edge
of the road
and two policemen got out

what you lot doing in there?
one of the coppers said
come on line up
the other said

so you all lined up
against the wall
surrounding the bombsite

what were you doing in there?
the copper asked

playing
Jim said
having fun
another kid said

don’t you know it’s illegal
to play
on theses condemned houses?
he said

didn’t know
a fat kid said
at the end

the copper
walked along the line
studying each boy in turn
asking each one
their name and address

you listened
sweating
your nerves on edge
your ears pricked
the answers the boys gave
were lies you knew
because Jim had said
Barny Broadbridge
and his address
was not were he lived

you
the copper said
what’s you name?

your mind went a blank
don’t know
you said

the copper smacked you
around the face
your name kid what is it?

your cheek stung
tears welled in your eyes
Brian Tolling
you muttered
saying whatever came
into your head

where do you live?
you made up a number
to a block of flats nearby

the other kids glared
at the coppers
as they walked
along the line

you saw a watery blur
of colours

right get off home
and if we see you
on here again
we’ll come and see your parents
get it?
he closed
his black note book
and they climbed back
in the car and drove off

up you copper
the fat kid said
lifting a finger
to the far away car

you all right?
Jim asked

you rubbed your cheek
blinked tears
out of your eyes
he came in to focus
yes
you said
didn’t hurt
frigging flatfoot

the other kids laughed
and the fat kid
patted your back
see you around
they said

and you and Jim
walked down
Rockingham Street
the sun peering over
the flats where
you did not live

back to Jim’s place
to look at his knives
and get on
with your schoolboy lives.

Between
Electron and
Nucleus

Boson dancing
A jig-

Pan pipes a
Neutron aboard

This floating world-

Limitless space
Within the
Solid

I'm gonna puke
on the mirror
or on the street puddle
or if I could, on my own frigging eyes.

All that reflects.
I'm gonna puke
on the atmosphere
or on the clear window
or if I could, on my own foul heart.

Why isn't it raining hard?
The clouds
aren't afraid of me?
On them I'm also gonna puke.

Her name’s Jane I think
said Jupp

standing beside you
in the school hall

as the ******* the school bus
went by with a slow walk

carrying a bag
over her shoulder

and her dark hair
flowing down her back

anyway he added
how are you getting on

with that maths work
chisel face gave us?

You watched
until she disappeared

into a crowd of other
girls and boys

like watching
the sun go down

on a fine summer’s day
and entering

a dull night
huh? Said Jupp

how you coping
with the **** maths?

All Greek to me
you said

carrying the image
of the girl off with you

as Jupp and you
made your way

along the corridor
to double metalwork

and this metalwork
Jupp moaned

it really ****** me off
what do I care

about making
a frigging tea caddy spoon?

And passing by
a print on the wall

of some Manet dame
you thought

how you’d love
to have a print

of the girl
to carry about

or have pinned
to your bedroom wall

at home
huh? Said Jupp

what’s with spoons?
I’ve no idea

you said
all part

of the brainwash
I guess

and did the girl
move you?

you asked inside
oh yes

oh yes
oh yes.

My overweight little old dog

Nudges my cheeks

Out of sleep

Waking me

In a way Telling me

He's about to **** the house!

Quickly now I take him out

To the Front patch of lawn

Now frigging covered in freezing snow

The early morning storm, winter-silent

The sky thick-grey with flurrying

Falling snow

****! It's really coming down

Hard

To believe, almost apocalyptic

Snow in Sin City!

Someone tell Trump this is "Global Warming”

A desert dressed in glowing snow.

Sylvia, don't cry.  
Come and sleep next to me in this grassy field.
Our knees touching like two knobby parentheses
cupping words whispered between us at 3 am.
Vulnerable.
Venerable.
My dearest sister in arms.
And if it makes you happy
we could talk about literature and Gods and good art and tea and faithless fathers and lovers.

Sylvia,  don't cry.
Scream at me if it makes things okay.
Curse at the yellow moon hanging in the starless sky like a gold pendulum.
Break all the mirrors and wall clocks.
But don't run after a train that has already left that foggy station.

Sylvia, don't cry.
Stop scraping the answers to your sorrows off that crusty oven floor.
Go, open the kitchen window.

Sylvia, don't cry.
Next time the phone rings during dinner
Rip out the ******* cord
And choke that soulless *******.

Sylvia, don't cry.
Find a ladder and climb the frigging tree
Stuff your mouth with purple figs
until your belly aches.
Don't wait for them to fall on the ground.
Keep eating.

Sylvia, don't cry.
Slice their throats with your cursive knives
When men say
that a girl poet must bleed on the quill she writes with.
Smear your cheeks with their blood.
Battle paint.
My brave Amazonian.

Sylvia, don't cry.
I know at times
it feels as if your spirit is trying to
climb its way out of your own body
Stop swallowing stones to weigh it down.
Hold my hand.
It'll get better, I promise.

Someone's staring at me
right now
here on this subway.
His eyes have not left mine.
He looks crazy and nervous,
a young guy,
a twitchy-looking young guy.
I have a feeling he's going to jump me
or rob me,
maybe shoot me
or stab me.
He's probably looking for money
for a fix.
He's going to follow me off this frigging subway car
and then he's going to slit my throat
and throw me on the tracks.
This maniac drug addict
is going to **** me
and buy some ****** or crack
or whatever these ******* scummy losers buy
to get high
and he's going to leave me on a subway track
with blood streaming out of my neck,
my mouth a pool of blood.
He's waiting for me to get off here
at the Spring Garden stop.
Well, forget it *******,
my wild-eyed doped-up piece of slime.
I won't get off here.

Wait a minute.
He just got off here
and the door closed.
I see him running up the steps
probably to catch a bus
or **** someone on the street.
Thank god he's gone.
I was sure he was going to knife me.
I had it all figured the hell out.
I even stayed in this ****-ridden
rat hole of a subway car
and now this means I have to get off
at the next stop and go over to the other side
of the station
and take another subway
back to the Spring Garden stop.
I have totally ******* up.
I talked myself out of getting off at my stop and
now I'm totally messed up.

I've got to stop thinking like this.
This paranoid crap is taking its toll.
It tricks me,
confuses me,
frightens me.
I have to be calm now,
just get ahold of myself.
I'm standing up
to get off at the next stop.

Now I'm by the door.
What's going on here?
I just noticed
two guys sitting over there
just a few seats down
on the left
and they're looking at me.
One's got a mile-long scar
on the side of his face.
These guys are trouble.
The other one just put his hand in his pocket
like he's got a gun or something.
Holy Christ!
I've got to get off.
Maybe my mind's just playing tricks on me.
I don't know what to think.
I'll just stand here by the door.
The stop's coming up.
Christ! They just got up and
they're walking toward me
and now they're standing behind me.
I can see their reflection in the door's glass.
I can almost feel one of them breathing
on the back of my neck.
I'm trapped now...nowhere to go...nowhere!
The door's opening and I step out
into the dark.

I'm a dead man.

every morning. Up at 4, recording. I make
hundreds a month. But it ain’t squat. I've a
voice. But it ain't sought.  **** this
Covid ****. Have *****/will travel. Paris is real

for every woman and man. Paris isn’t on
the map for me. Dried is the ink on my passport,
tough cookies! Not to mention, this type of work

doesn’t have a pension. The exercise
to have this shape is grueling. All to have
them drooling like a rabid dog. So, I can
twirl my tongue around their log.

Bro1: ..... you look like you got hit by a TRAIN!!!! WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?!?!
Bro2: I pulled a gun on God.
Bro: ...what? where's the gun?
1: I don't frigging know.
2: you look like you got mauled!! How are you alive?!?!
1: turns out God is just a fighter. Not a killer. I love you.
2: ......what the hell happened to you?
1: I just told you.
2: what did you drink......
1: let's just say I will be hung over for. eternity. I love you.
2:.......you're scaring me.
1: and you're scaring me too.

What a frigging bore
The guy works and works
A meaningless chore

Could have retired
Quite some time ago
But wasted money

And always needed more
You know

So this is for the people
That are slaves to dollar bills

Working their whole lives away
Isn't it a thrill

They talk about work and money
Every single day

Can't seem to think of
Anything else

They waste their lives away

Failure hurts, no doubt
Especially when you are in Recruitment
A profession which depends on people
As much as India used to depend on Sachin Tendulkar
In the late nineties
But you know what hurts more than failure?
Imagine a T20 match
Where your team has dominated
From start to finish
And still managed to end up on the losing side
Due to a couple of bad *****
From your best bowler
In the very last over
Now, apply the same analogy to Recruitment
You have put your heart and soul
Into a particular mandate
Done a thorough search, through various portals
Called up as many candidates as possible
Presented quality profiles to the client
And lined up interviews one after the other
Everything has been worked out
To the tiniest detail
However, at the eleventh hour
The candidate backs out
Thus, you have no choice
But to start all over again
And this happens not once
Not twice
Not even thrice
But a frigging four times
However, you are no ordinary recruiter
You are a recruiter who possesses the heart of a lion
Thus, you prepare yourself for the long haul
Determined to do whatever it takes
To close this mandate, once and for all
And your efforts do pay off
Or at least, they seem to
For the client, it is a choice
Between two worthy candidates
However, as always, there is a hitch
One of the candidates has started showing signs of cold feet
While the other has to take a pay cut
That too a big one
This mandate now hangs on a knife-edge
So, it is not failure that hurts the most
But coming within an inch of success
After months of hard work
Only to have it slip through your fingers
At the very last minute

Those Pesky Elves
Pull my covers down each night
And cuddle and huddle near my heart
They are warm and cozy
But I'm frigging freezing
And that's not right
Today I ate a bowl of beans
And drank a six pack too
The Elves settled down
Just like they usually do
When out of the bedroom
Sounded a tremendous boom
A glorious ****
A work of Art
The Elves scattered here
The Elves scattered there
The Elves scattered everywhere
Holding their noses and feeling weak
All seeking a place to retreat
I laughed and laughed
So full of glee
As I watched the Elves flee
Now it was time to fumigate the air
My trusty can of "Frebeze" was near.

Bodies Go here
And bodies go there

I don't know
What it's about

And I don't really care

I just try to be kind

Life is not fair

Alone in the world

To see and to see

Without many friends

There is misery

I can here that
Frigging tv

Oh America
What a place to be