Friday, December 17, 2010


It is something
That throws a tantrum
Every few hours
Like a child
So angry
Because he is so hungry
That he cannot wait
Cries and kicks the air
Before the bottle can be sterilised
Before it can be filled
And he can be fed;
I cannot howl
My head off
Like him
As I break into a sweat
And fall
Upon my food
Like an animal,
Taking bigger and bigger morsels
Literally fighting
With this unseen beast
Bucking me around like a bull
High on arrack,
Before the fire is finally fought
I can feel my heart thud
Like during a fever ---
I know why the poet
Seeing the empty pot
Wanted to set
Something on fire.

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