A posse of guards encircle
and squeeze a corridor
as he laughs at the silly alacrity
of a band in khaki,
a little noise and people retreat,
for the man in eagle frame
of jewels, gold and costly stones,
offers currency notes and gold
to sculptures walking, once disciples,
now, look at with gratitude illusory.
The crook throws glances
at a damsel with overhanging red fangs,
in timid steps she appears.
He retraces steps with a dialectic humour
before the idol in trance
with a wreath of skulls
and finds festooning images of the goddess.
A Pundit winks and closes lips
perhaps praying with open eyes,
as a jewelled man,
with an owl stands near a leader
as a cat pounces on milk and incense
and jumps over the empty priest's skull,
looking at each as eyes close,
smile and whisper in syllables Martian,
while eyelids transmit a luscious snap
of a figure digging moon.
A thief clasps a damsel’s hand softly
but pricks as if an incisor,
to tell God offering yellow sweets
‘I am a thief and all say so’
voices resound in the foyer
and bells ring loudly,
he stands before the bejewelled leader,
inaugurating a dead building
and the pundit looks at in anger,
as chanting crushes the voice.
Ingesting disgust throws sniping looks,
whispers as both stand aghast and puzzled
before the Goddess, who moves not
when he says he is a burglar.
A young lady holds him tight and hugs
others turn into pygmies,
next moment he walks out
with the woman
as the Goddess blesses