Blah Blah Blah

My friend took me to

meet a pastor who cooks

great wild boar, and as the

man grilled me on what I did

and what I plan to do

(the usual Indian ‘uncle’ questions),

I wanted to be anywhere

but there, but today, I

realised that I always want

to be anywhere but where I am

at the moment. It’s because

nothing excites me anymore.

Red is grey, and blue is black,

the colours, merging, love and

lust, dead, circumstance, and will

becoming one — making me

an out of sorts, outwardly

idiosyncratic, clueless rat

who scuttles across the floor

thinking he’ll find cheese that

will taste sweet, or savoury

cookies right out of Heston

Blumenthal’s kitchen.

The vainglorious I am became

an I was sometime ago, and is

now no longer even an i,

just like the tale of nobody who

wanted to be anybody because

everybody was somebody,

but ended up getting nowhere

after going everywhere

and screaming, “Anywhere!”

The past is full of chicken and fries,

the present, yesterday’s pork

microwaved and the future,

an ugly, tasteless pill, swallowed

for the sake of nutrients or

whatever. Even if aliens landed

tomorrow, and declared that we were

welcome to join them, get into

their anti-matter saucers

and fly to their galactic federations,

proving everything Haim Eshed said,

I’d say, “Meh, I think I’ll

just lie down.”

Others might herald the benevolent

invaders, and say, “We’re glad you

stopped nuclear annihilation,”

but all I’ll do is eat and drink

until my stomach goes nuclear,

and then take some sick, twisted

pleasure in the runs.

*Grunts* Oh yeah! Finally

something to look forward to.

*Farts* Man, that was nuclear!

*Squeals* Shit! (no pun intended)

It’s ending.

So, I’ll end this by telling you

that I’m bored by writing

a toilet quatrain that isn’t connected

with the words above to elicit some

response because I’m writing

for the sake of it.

When you feel shitty and depressed,

eat meat, drink soda, and forget art

until your vibrating stomach is oppressed,

and you put your arms up and stridently fart.

Photo by Andras Rozsa on Unsplash

8 responses to “Blah Blah Blah”

  1. Lol… wild boar! This would make a rousing anthem for 2023.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I realized that my comment made little sense. The world seems to be going to shit, and your attitude in the poem seems to be kindling something that can burn down the dung hill of 2023.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Your comment made sense, and I’m glad the apathetic tone kindled something in you. Tbh, that tone embodies inner me to a large extent. And I’m down with other people taking such an attitude. So let’s burn this dung heap of 2023 together.

        Liked by 1 person

    2. Yup. He really does cook wild boar. I’d be careful not to roam those streets if I were you lol. And thank you. I don’t mind this poem becoming an anthem to lift people up, and say, sod off to a depressing 2023.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I enjoyed this – the way you started with a vivid story and then pivoted outward

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much JYP 😊. Btw if you’re looking for more self-deprecating humour, and zany posts about Indian massages, you can check out my second blog Yes I know I’m shamelessly promoting myself lol

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Ah, you’re a self-deprecating humor fan too? I got your back:

        Enough with the Self-Deprecating Humor Because You’re Bad At It

        My Epic Story of Regret

        Cooking (& Life) Advice With JYP!

        Don’t mind me promoting my own blog posts on your blog. If that’s not shameless, I don’t know what is 😉

        Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

About Me

Ordinary Person is a guy who likes to write. He writes fiction, essays, poems and other stuff. You’ll find his other blog here.


%d bloggers like this: