23rd May, 2016 // 2:10 p.m. // Indian Type Foundry

I want a poem like thick tropical rain
Dense green spatter of syllables
Drumbeat consonants, fertile with meaning.
Sudden. Short. Unforgettable.
Afterwards, jungle silence.

I want a poem like a Russian circus
You should know it has been trained.
No ordinary everyday poem could leap like that.
No quotidian poem could shimmer, spangle, exult like that.
Oh satin, yes, and yes, fakery, and then
Popcorn applause and a lonely child,
Big-eyed, dreaming of running away to the poem.

I want a poem like an animal.
You should be able to eat it. Or domesticate it.
You should be able to befriend it. Or behead it.
You could carry it around or make it bear your burdens.
You could, should, oh should, so should, clean up after it.
Afterwards: Skeleton poem rides in night terror through icecream cloud cover.

I want a poem.
I want a poem.
I get instead this poem.
A poem of clanking wants like a pile of bhaandi-bartan going over a waterfall in a barrel.
A poem of whispering needs like a tree whose branches scrape plea-bargains from the pavement as it is dragged
to the bonfire.

I want a poem
like a chorus of angels,
a chamber of horrors,
a block buster film,
a sexcapade with candlewax,
an anaconda adventure,
a ride in a Batmobile,
a contessa in a fountain.
I want a poem.

I Want a Poem by Jerry Pinto