Aman Chauhan: Rotten

Sometimes you wake up to her wails and writhing moans,
The city cries every morning till caterpillars cosy around in their curtains,
And eagles fall from the sky flaming like Icarus,
You can hear her rotten breath before breakfast,
And see her concrete pimples before the drying downpour,
Oh you try, Oh rotten one,
To hide behind the screaming lights and soothing sounds of the sea,
But the hounds know your scent and they howl in haste every night,
Whispering to the old and sick that they will rot,
Rot in your blistered breasts and sweaty armpits,
The snakes know your skin, so they hiss,
Underneath the sewers and potholes, before they kiss their children goodnight,
And tell of your rotten tales,
You ate the forests and the fruits, the honey and the harvest,
You dried and dusted daffodils and daisies,
Drank seas and ponds, till it was all liquor and piss,
To numb your narrow nerves of nothingness,
And now you stare up to the sky with still swollen eyes,
The starry night has slipped away, oh Goddess of rot!

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_{Aman Chauhan is an Aerospace Engineer at Vikram Sarabhai Space Centre, ISRO. He writes poetry as a hobby. He likes to write about environment, love, writing and optimism.}