Scratch A Rock

A Middle Class Neighbourhood(edited)

Posted in Where Nothing Rhymes by Bharat Iyer on August 27, 2011

old people fill up

the park every evening

cotton pajamas shuffling along

paved paths, brushing against

trimmed hedges and clipped grass

once in a while they greet each other

a bit like prisoners allowed outside

for some sunshine and exercise

some of them sit on benches

in clumps of three or four

the men and the women separately

their conversation is sparse

and mostly unintelligible

save the name of some pill or affliction

floating in the slow summer air

others, of creaking arthritic joints

attempt exercises, their skin flapping every time

on calcium coated washing lines

and as the sky darkens

every passing bird looks like a crow


outside, the road runs putrid

with overflowing drains

and the wet air smells of rotting food

down the street an old bum

pees in the municipality garbage bin

he licks the saliva dripping

from his toothless mouth

his dick in one hand, the other on his hip

his legs spread wide apart

fast cars churn sewage into paste

and noisy children play with a ball

behind painted fences