what the fuck

(written, unedited as a writing exercise...free flow, three minutes flat...whew)


I pause at some God forsaken space

the poems frozen, winter lakes

in the peak of summer breeze

tiny alphabets blow everywhere

teasing and taunting but never quite gathering


sighs and tears, through it all it jeered

made a laughing stock of my feelings

those embarrassed tears ran amuck

gathering What the Fucks over and over

until the supply seemed to break a wall

digging holes into aspirations

giving orgasms after orgasms

inside my head

the letters still aflutter


what the fuck


dammit! Won't you still yourself

I have tales to tell

the babies cry, insomnia plagues the mothers

lullabies hang on trees

dewdrops that grow in darkness

and laugh as they fall

another missed calling

another dusted night

announcing dawn


the lights are too bright

the font too small

the ideas too big

to fill my seasonal fall

come winter, won't you light a fire

the chimney stalls and chokes

ashes of despair softly in ashen dust

cover the pristine hopes of tomorrows


what the fuck

the pen runs dry

my mouth too

the throat is constricted

as undeniable truths of violent morons

assault my sensibilities


all I dream are of spaces far away

the ones I grew up with

Enid Blyton in that fancy font

and I, plucking fantasies

what the fuck is wrong with this world

that doesn't let people be

or animals that shimmer and fade

to extinction


the Earth laughs and evolves

for, we aren't far from it

the plastic chokes the soil

dusty are our throats

the cancer grows in spurts

and then with a slam dunk

the cookie crumbles in the milk

(contaminated in selfish agendas)

closed eyes come calling

insomnia and nightmares a sonata dance


what the fuck!


(whew)


© Sandhya Suri

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