PULL DOWN THE STARS AND DROWN THEM IN SARASWATI
The audience stands.
I can change the world.
I can change.
If I was of high majesty;
I would be the sunlight to many
On a throne made of diamonds and gold I asit
and my robe would be made of thick velvet.
My wife would be cunning.
I tried to give me consolation.
Before I finally drop
Flat
Onto a bare piece of wood
they call in simplicity a "coffin".
Rubbish.
I shall never be buried.
When I die,
I will make sure
That Krishna plays his flute to me.
And I will learn his ways.
He will come down from heaven.
He will bring with him a star for my soap.
And I will bathe me in the cool waters of the Saraswati.
Herewith I declare a statement of fact.
The rich motherland that emblazoned my eyes with wonder.
Will never be.
As rise I to my new home.
Where the Gold Coast would be efficient literati.
With coconut palms swaying
Like corals under the sea.
I am not ordinary.
Nor is my world.
Applause.
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