jai-mardhekarki dept.

In the water-drum, drown the hapless mice
Necks broken, and by no strangler's hands
Lip falls on lip, and without a struggle,
Their still heads , lifeless, hang

Their's, a pitiful lot -- survival in a hole
and death in a drum, with a hiccup
and the day spills down over their eyes
and washes their impotent genitals

Life is an obligation, here
And death -- an obligation too.

The gift of despondency:
A poison sight; glaring through glass eyes
Even the beeswax mildewed on their lips
Is cheap bakelite, bakelite

And again, they meet, lip touches lip
the drowning mice, bathing in the dip

-- Bal Sitaram Mardhekar

(with my sincere apologies to the deceased)