I AM STRAW
Ask my name, then lick it, for I am that straw
that calloused your finger. Wrote on it.
Burnt it with staid, venomous gold.
Now, I continue as an ancient pawn. Washed up and righted.
A simulation awaits completion. The answers are uncertain, but my reality is true.
Dare I plod? Dare I spin? That fear of slish-slashed wrists -
it burns as straw, you know. Lighting here. Lighting there. Smoking some.
Wretched fire, do you know that you die too?
I warn you:
When the sun charges a crocodile,
and slides its eyes open, its mouth open, its belly rumbles, "Brrrrrmm."
Do you hear it? It's down, down, down from there.
- Rajnesh Domalpalli / 5th Aug 2015.