In the New Year

The leaves of fresh progress grow green in the new year.

The flabby folds of dreams grow lean in the new year.

 

My handwriting sticks together at winter’s end.

Its ample curves are so obscene in the new year.

 

Streams of black ink flow down politicians’ brows.

How shamelessly they shine and preen in the new year!

 

Demagogues turned real estate agents burn down mosques

And squat on peacock thrones, serene in the new year.

 

The émigré turns to Bharat like it’s Mecca.

The slums he remembers are clean in the new year.

 

All my socks have holes as big as exercise shoes.

I swear, such voids will not be seen in the new year.

 

Metacognitive pundits meditate out loud.

They count breaths in cups of caffeine in the new year.

 

Aged Merlin, they say you live life in reverse.

Tell me, where have your whiskers been in the new year?

 

My selfish heart saw need and looked the other way.

It will beat for all now…I mean… in the new year!

 

The next revolution will not be televised.

It will be streamed on your phone screen in the new year.

 

The dove flies in circles in its gilded birdcage.

Even Chaplin turns into Wayne in the new year.

 

Sameer—come, come—you must turn over a new leaf!

Your glasses must boast a new sheen in the new year.