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Hold ‘em Coal Fields, Holden Caulfield!

          Boundaries Have Promises of Opportunities!

(seeded by Naeem Mohaiemen vis-à-vis “My Mobile Weighs A Ton”)

 

Hold ‘em coal fields, Holden Caulfied!

Bill ye holiday of nibbling strange fruits

Wash ye limbs, you got blood on the trees

Slap ye fancy, you got blood from the roots!

 

“Fanaa!” you shriek, you pigly piece of scorn!

Are you that wholesome, or are you yet to be born?

Boro Didi fooled you with a one world dream

All paths well-trodden, yet un-travelled worlds gleam!

 

Would you rather be seen, or would you rather be heard?

Salvage of enormity; HAHA! Quite absurd!

The prophet-like paper-monster, does scrunch many a gut

One day in an eon, and across one you, many do strut!

 

Self-made you have been, by the orders of destiny

Mother-like comrades, fuzz vampires of scrutiny

Vibrations have diffused a rhythm with a seed

Rock n’ roll punk, you are the beat generation indeed!

 

One silly tattoo and a feel-good vibe,

Slaps a murky pleasure onto a guilty tribe

You slide across the sidewalk, and try to keep apace

But end up following, what you think away you chase.