He stands at a Roundabout,
A white placard of black letters
And with a strap around his neck
It exhibits an advertisement of a new pay loan Center.
The poor chap's dance is very attractive
And I approached him pussyfoot.
I called him; 'Brother, for three things I came to you,
Firstly, you resemble my deceased loving brother once the bread-winner of our poor family.
Secondly, I am very inquisitive about the loan.
Thirdly, I am jobless and seeking a position to survive.
But I cannot dance like you and I am not belong to your soil; a different planet
Where I have come from?
So my dance would be typical and I am scared even to my oblique shadow.
Just imagine dear, when somebody is in hunger what about his dance? '
* my humble dedication to the poetess Dove Allen