HEIRARCHIKICKUS

BENOY.P.J

Heirarchikickus,

heirarchikickus

So many so called

Heirarchikickus

Packed on a bus

To a town of the sickness

“Prestine nation going to the dogs

(As if ration was not enough for them.)”

The cry and the whelp

As they resound the cannon,

So many so called

Heirarchikickus.

[“Aren’t you one of them,

That is, a fully formed one?”

Everybody else, everybody else!!

Said the crony

Everybody being a being without body.]

So many so called

Heirarchikickus

With a twine for the answer

And a fine for the jester

Kicks for the worker

And kickoffs for the sucker,

So many so called

Heirarchikickus.

[As he crouches to pass urine

Bells chime, conch’s sound

Faces are ready with the meek

Look of the conquered,

And sandal marks

Spat on the foreheads,

As he passes,

By the flood of sand.]

So many so called

Heirarchikickus

Fit for their seats

Holding forth in the spirit of kings

Who ever since their countries were gone

Have opted to do with culture.

[What shall we do… and what not to do,

As if to shit by the book was

The prettiest thing to do.]