A Toiler’s Tale

a poem by Remigius de Souza

By the decree of my previous life here
I must toil in the soil without a desire
for its fruit, thus says Krishna’s Law.
My living here drains down the sewer
of progress, like masturbated sperms.
It is sacrilege to live humbly here
to live with nature by choice here,
other than rat race imposed by equality.

Blessed are the civilised races
assured of the fruits of their purses
and investments here by the contract law.
Even the spouses whose marriages
are made in heaven, but never
without a contract here on earth-
they either leech on each other or are
divorced, as they are from nature.

My expressions may remain crude
and vulgar, not being conditioned
or conformist by your standard,
but the meanings do not change.
If my labour of love end up in your
aversions, I am left to be an object
not by compulsion but by your choice;
it’s your bottom line – when not in tune.