FOR NOWHERE IS NOT THEIR LAND

BENOY.P.J

The hero of downtown cemetery

Who loves symmetry

And goes to gaol for her-

They call him bandicoot, he give no hoot

As down the slope he runs

Catching trees he sets them shaking

Raising hell as he flies through,

Then returning

Taking refuge in a cow-pen.

Comes the posse: on his returning

Chases through the trees and passes

Right ahead the chasers move on

Bandicoot- oh ho! He knows it!

“That was close,” he grunts and sneaks out

Now to move away from danger,

Jumps the graveyard wall, and enters

Lifts a broken slab and goes in

The slab replacing, now to lie down

Till it cools down.

They call him bandicoot- he knows the police

How they chase, and how they miss you

If you were a rotten leader

Smelling of sweet lavender

Gandhi-dandy smiling ketchup

Yonder in that tall sky-scraper.

Lying by the old man’s remains, he

Thrusts his hand and checks the packet

Oh my dear one, saint of rebellion

Let dreams erupt and change these here cops

(As for corpses

Let them save themselves.).

Glittering tinsel cop!

Taught in the school of Suresh Gopi

He shat on a man if there ever was one

Put up the land for the boss on a platter

Let all the small folk run down the gutter

Ate all the butter and spat with a stutter

Throwing the shots- a super cop!

And you know- thrice incarnated

The last as a cop-

He is out to pick this ‘dirty rascal’

(Who gives no hoot)

Who flies like a whirl wind

Out among those coffee- plants

Where you met him as we set off

(Thank you Masters,

You may leave now.).

For out of the grave has risen the spooks

Who haunt your peace with thirty questions

Each worth a life time

Each with a dream

You can’t drive ‘em back

Because they are backer than back.

You with your mustache,

You with the glasses

You with red foreheads

Out with the cops

This may not please you,

For

They will go nowhere

They will not go nowhere

For nowhere is their land,

For nowhere is not their land.