May be a fight(Poem)


I was humming
some chill track.
At least that’s what
Spotify says so.

the bald guy
with coca-cola hat
was eying me.
ready to pull
senior citizen card
and rest his velvet ass.

He made the move
but so did the Khadi saree woman
with edge-of-the-world eyeglasses
and Doordarshan’s face.

The two began moral and
talking boxing
on why their particular bum
should make a reunion with the pressed seat.

I sat like a dead mummy
without a greedy gaze at
my own goddamn seat.

Then came the blind guy
with his samurai stick
I rose and offered the jounced
justice painted
equity coloured seat.

Now their conscientious bargaining
or blackmailing is dead.
They thought
they did the Rosa Parks act.

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