Get the Latest Updates On Your Email

The Oliver in Our Master

‘Please, sir, I want some more.’
And the Oliver in him blossoms
In some ways more than my penchant for others' stuff
Like writing here in a foreign language
More than this, the hidden Oliver in him
He speaks in a couple of foreign languages
‘Please, sir, I want some more.’
And he stands, his nose slightly tilts up
‘Please, sir, I want some more.’
And his leather face, his shameless face
It glows when his master nods
‘Please, sir, I want some more.’
He kneels and begs and weeps
He got a wife to pamper
He got to spoil the children
He got to loot for his grand kids
‘Please, sir, I want some more.’
He got to loot for his line of descent
Ancestry has found a new name.

After Hiroshima and Nagasaki
We don’t even have to rethink
It’s gotta be his home and his bloody dogs’ kennels.

‘Please, sir, I want some more.’
Please do take too, that golden box of fæces.

The black haiku

Trending Posts

If You Believe Election Will Bring Social Change, Here’s an Idea Why That Is Quite a Misconception

A Political Gimmick to Seek the Details of Framework Agreement

Sonia Bags the 2017 Young Achiever’s Award

Typographical Reflection on the Biggest Circus of the Largest Democracy


In Pictures: “Rainin’ in Paradize” by Manu Chao

Meira Paibi: A Brief Story of the Women Torch Bearers from Manipur

A Rant on the Promises of the Election Month

The Others