Cleanliness is next to Godliness

Said the ancient adage forgotten

As The God sits next to garbage

Growing on either side

In the street corner.

Rickety buses rushing

To and fro gnash gears

And spray smothering smoke

Like an asthmatic expectorating

His phlegm for public consumption.

Four armed and forewarned

The God in disgust curls

His trunk and shuts his eyes

As the mighty mouse

Billed by the keeper of Gates

Deserted Him to  open

Every window in the  net-world.

The stink hits the patient God

As the dog on three legs

Waters the lamp post

As erect men do the same

Wetting the temple walls.

From stone age to iron age

Stuck we are with garb-age.

Through the ballot box we prayed

For a Government clean and

Through dust bins street clean.

The Government we deserve

Preens it self clean with smug

Smile on praise showered by

Those who seek, not the weak

Who wait for the other shower

That the God denies.

Leaders of not same feathers

Flock together for gain

Fill the media dustbins

With vitriolic verbiage as

People’s garbage fill the street.

Devotee dotted and striped

On fore head to God prays

For longevity of the self,

 Not nation, standing on the street

To be run over by the passing bus

Or the election,