Troubled young boys grow up to be steadfast gentlemen by Mitra Visveswaran

Sad man by Prisac Nicolae
Sad man by Prisac Nicolae

Troubled young boys grow up to be stiff and steadfast gentlemen
Wearing suits and ties and combing their hair back, neatly gelled
They are soft with their mothers and they are attentive on their cell-phones
To the feminine of their species especially, they are careful and
Rosy-cheeked and
Neatly shaved and
Bow-tied
It’s like their troubles, whatever whirled and swirled inside them causing them to reject the world like they did
Came out as embellishments
A pocket square.
A dry-cleaned tuxedo.
The troubles of their youth are now stiff and steady and garland them
Welcoming them to a transformed world It’s a shame that
All that unbridled passion
Has quietened
Stiffened
Crystallized
Like hot water molecules that are left to be
They cool down but they are not cold They are room-temperature
Imagine saying I was fiery when I was young, forceful, aggressive, problematic
And then I cooled down
I am now a room temperature glass of crystal clear water
There’s nothing wrong with that, don’t get me wrong
It’s just, you sucked all the fun out of yourself.
Wayfarer
Young stubbled boy with a half-shaved head
Angry boy
Boy who thinks the world swirls to his thoughts
Boy who thought he would buy a city and change it
Big dreamed boy with fangs
Boy that bit into my neck and bled into me
Drunk boy on terrace-tops that did not belong to him
Boy who brought a blanket so we could see Orion
Spitting fire, big words, little prick
Taking a piss by that lawyer’s house
Curly-haired dog whisperer
Where did you go?
You burned at the pit of my stomach
I’ve never had that much fun.
You were insane.
I miss that.
Take your pocket square and wipe that crumb off of your lips.
You’re pristine now.
You sucked the fun out of yourself.

Mitra Visveswaran