Common Coxwains (Revised)
S
Sathya Narayana
0
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They row, row and row
towards the sliding wonder world
of a fleet of hovercrafts
of elite on show
afloat on bubbly milky ocean-blues
like gold-threaded hammock of a lazy baron
flaunting opulence, splendor and élan.
They row, row and row!
The common coxswains in crowded little boats
carrying their weights, their plights
and half-fed entrails;
craving for the étagère at flotilla afar
in iridescent glitter; baroque and extravagant.
They row, row and row!
Sooner or later they come to know
there're no blades to their paddling oars.
They wonder
at their decreasing vigour;
and their decelerating speed
and find that lingering are their frail sampans in waters
the way their earnings remain stagnant every year
and the way their fortunes malinger.
From gnawing slosh of an acid rill
they smell the scent of their slowly burning hull.
Their dreams of joining the gentry at last will
prove to be as ephemeral
as the pre-dawn brume
that evaporates soon
when rises up the billion-pronged piercing leister
of gritty dayspring.
Till then, they row, row and row!
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