Troubled young boys grow up to be steadfast gentlemen by Mitra Visveswaran

Sad man by Prisac Nicolae

Sad man by Prisac Nicolae

Troubled young boys grow up to be stiff and steadfast gentlemen Wearing suits and ties and combing their hair back, neatly gelled They are soft with their mothers and they are attentive on their cell-phones To the feminine of their species especially, they are careful and Rosy-cheeked and Neatly shaved and Bow-tied It’s like their troubles, whatever whirled and swirled inside them causing them to reject the world like they did Came out as embellishments A pocket square. A dry-cleaned tuxedo. The troubles of their youth are now stiff and steady and garland them Welcoming them to a transformed world It’s a shame that All that unbridled passion Has quietened Stiffened Crystallized Like hot water molecules that are left to be They cool down but they are not cold They are room-temperature Imagine saying I was fiery when I was young, forceful, aggressive, problematic And then I cooled down I am now a room temperature glass of crystal clear water There’s nothing wrong with that, don’t get me wrong It’s just, you sucked all the fun out of yourself. Wayfarer Young stubbled boy with a half-shaved head Angry boy Boy who thinks the world swirls to his thoughts Boy who thought he would buy a city and change it Big dreamed boy with fangs Boy that bit into my neck and bled into me Drunk boy on terrace-tops that did not belong to him Boy who brought a blanket so we could see Orion Spitting fire, big words, little prick Taking a piss by that lawyer’s house Curly-haired dog whisperer Where did you go? You burned at the pit of my stomach I’ve never had that much fun. You were insane. I miss that. Take your pocket square and wipe that crumb off of your lips. You’re pristine now. You sucked the fun out of yourself.

Mitra Visveswaran

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