the drunken stupor in the middle of Battery Tunnel

Stuck in a drunken stupor
in the middle of Battery Tunnel,
I lost my way out
into the uterus.
No, I won’t get out.

I am an alternative elephant
on his way from the fairy Dhambhala(1)
to the walls of Troy.
The walls will soon fall
like Palmyra’s second fall;
blood is running again in the ancient streets of the city.

Walking the streets of New York—
two eggs on a roll, a papaya doll,
her satin summer dress—
my mind is a mess.

The karate man, breaking his matchstick house with his forehead.
Crack!

A single man sounds all the voices
of the Eastern bazaar;
A single bearded lady,
a medieval bizarre.

I am the little boy
playing in the dreary hall.
The time is full of nicotine,
the smell of a fling is in the air.
Have you seen my plush voodoo bear?

Thousands of spears of lust
have pierced my flesh
while I was waiting for you
on the Asphodel meadow(2),
yet there is no breeze in the air
to soothe till the first star comes out.


  1. A mythical Buddhist retreat and study center
  2. In Greek mythology, a part of the underworld where the souls of ordinary people go after death

2 thoughts on “the drunken stupor in the middle of Battery Tunnel

  1. You have a style of your own..weird but good..like it..your flair is pristine. .you write the same way you sip your morning coffee: simply ..spontaneously
    Glad to read ..and glad to know gifted people like you

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