An average verse.

The quality of averageness entangled me today
It pushed me to a bottle, like a djinn.
I painted the glass with vibrant colours to hide its content, yet
the bottle proved to be too small for the greateness of my averagness,
it spilled outside the brim:
average intelligence that fails to deconstruct itself in the light of Derrida's theory,
average face that has never been immortalised on the canvas at NGMA,
(even ambition is average as it fails to strive for the walls of Louvre)
average muscular strength that makes me stay on the floor longer than those not-so-average bodies around,
average poem, no average comment on that shall be offered.
Average, average, average to the point of nausea.
only the spelling mistakes and mispronounced words shall proudly announce my individuality,

I

The 'I' in me wears a thick coat on a hot summer's day.
It closes the eyes in the middle of things:
intro-I-duction, po-I-em, walk-I-ing.
It stops with the eyes closed and hands extended
feeling the structure of the wall near by.
It will be late for work today,
although,
the sense of responsibility
will push it towards the doors.
I inter-I-rupted poem.
It will come back to it in the evening.

I sat to it with a cup of tea in my hands,
while the 'I' in me kept pondering over the sense of it all.
I watched the child, the adult and the I conspire against me.
The child was laughing
The I was missing
The adult was annoyed.
I sat in the corner looking at the I.

We were trying to measure each other.
I wore a thick coat and I went away.

The Cow.

'She's a fat cow...' These were the exact words that would creep into his mind each night as he mounted her on the squeaky cot standing in the corner of the room.
'You stupid cow...' he would tell her as he slapped her for having gone out with her girlfriends to buy the glass bangles without telling him.
He milked her parents well on their wedding day - new motorbike and a smartphone with unlimited access to those pretty scantly clad kittens that would make up to him for having to bear with that cow of his.

He heard in the evening that a man kept cow's meat in his fridge. He was outraged. How could one have even thought of eating a cow. He run to the man's house with a stone in his hand.

I run out of words. They turned into sharp  blades of grass that the cows graze on...