Sleep walk (or a walk to/from the library at midnight)

Shijo Varghese
Former Student

In the night, my watch ticking away
My heart’s rhythm to the morrow
I woke up with stiffness
Between my thighs
The bladder, you know, must release
The tension of the buttermilk of my supper

I don’t believe urinals
Hypocrites, clad in white robes
They sieve out everything
Leaving bubbles and stench

I am afraid of trees
Trees, black monsters, conspirators
Whisper against me in the night
Because, in my every pilgrimage
To library and back to hostel
I piss deep at their roots;
The roots, you know, are very sentimental

In the night, my watch transferring
Its motion to my heart’s rhythm
I stopped
The wind breathing stopped
The trees whispering stopped
And I saw
A ghost
Gosh, a ghost!
Pale as moon with meteorite impressions
Eyes swollen with unkind sleep
(Just out of bed like me?)
A ghost indeed, still

A breeze gushed
To change its stance
My tension released through the stiffness
But, you know, one doesn’t sweat then

Grinning in melancholy
It spiralled and spiralled
Into a whirligig
Vanished through the pores of my hide
Leaving its pale hue and dry veins
Impressed on a plantain leaf
Dancing in the wind’s breath