Moon at Half Past Noon

I pray each dawn with a sly, crooked grin,

For gold, a grey throne in my dream’s sly spin.

Ganesha, grant a job with ladoos so sweet,

Lakshmi, rain rupees—flood my dusty street!

Krishna, play your flute, make my date a thrill,

But zap my foes with Indra’s stormy quill.

My sins I settle with rice, now dry as sand,

I dodge my kin with a Kali Yuga grin.

Shiva, take this coconut I crack with flair,

For lies to sis, a betel leaf, half a share!

Durga, here’s a sari, frayed from my brash song,

In Kali Yuga’s greed, all masks are thin—strong!

Truth burns white, like Ganga’s dust-streaked glare,

A mirror too harsh, it strips my soul bare.

Dark prowls like Kali’s dance, a wild dare,

Subterfuge my game, I trick both gods and men.

In murky haze, I wink, let blame take flight,

I pray for all to share my sinful plight.

I pray for floods to sink my boss’s creaky van,

Mangoes to lob at my wife—blame I’d mend!

Vishnu, gift me naps to dodge her loud nag’s maze,

While debts climb high, I scheme in a lazy haze.

Kali twirls her tongue, “Pay up, you cheap fake!”

Krishna laughs, “Your date’s a cow—what a mistake!”

My sins swing back, but I beg for all, a jest,

We’re all flawed—I’m cleansed, mirror’s my test!

The gods now roar, “You rogue, such foolish play!”

I bow, slip on ghee—my grand exit, hooray!