His knees drawn up in rigor’s grip
That pulled his arms stretched to the sky
There in the street hard by the curb
He came here to live and stayed to die.

He is not alone, this lonely corpse
He is but one, there are thousands more
Discovered when the waters ebb
Their souls transported from this shore.

No, not Bombay nor is it Calicutt,
Where street rats nibble at his feet,
And scavengers, once someone’s pets,
Starving now find rotting meat.

The beads are lost, the masque is gone,
From this place that care forgot.
The laughter stilled, the music mute,
Where once he lived and now does not