By: Sonali Raj

He will go out on his bicycle
when no one rides bicycles
except dressed in fluorescent;
He will go in everyday clothes,
take the dullest road, by the ruins
idle boys play cricket in, by the
city drains, government quarters
rows upon rows a puke green
(though who pukes green?)
he will ride past the railway line
or duck under the barricade;
he will turn round the roundabout
slowly return. Those who saw him
go will see him again, maybe
they’ll think he went for something
he got. And he might pretend
that he went for a purpose,
which is true in fact, he went
looking for something you, now
he’s back, still numbly looking
for something you
never could understand what