The Unworldly King

The middle-aged king can
cover his kingdom within 
five slow minutes, albeit 
he takes half a summer day,
saunters scratching his beard
and hair on his chest underneath 
his frayed red velvet suit.

Sometimes he ceases to move 
turn and watch the village 
whose good people leave 
food and old clothes for him 
on the cement-seat around 
the old banyan tree.

This kingdom and his reign 
is older than this road but
not half as wide. It begins 
near the hyacinth bed and 
unravels where a bald dog stands
and stares at the milestone 
denoting the distance between 
the town and the heartland.

 

 

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Kushal Poddar
Picture Nick Victor

 

 

 

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