Still Life with Raj
in the room hides
an unwell mind
laundered clothes fester in piles
the chair is plied
with question
the table
has been drunk
in white cups of tea the bitters seep--
brown fingers cradle
palms together
he bows
where the English have planted their
names like trees
the English have piled into my name,
(the walls stroked in ink)
my tongue,
mine--
if you want some exposition: Raj refers to the British Raj.
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