I am a democrat in so far as I love the free sun in men
and an aristocrat in so far as I detest narrow-gutted, possessive persons.

I love the sun in any man
when I see it between his brows
clear, and fearless, even if tiny.

But when I see these grey successful men
so hideous and corpse-like, utterly sunless,
like gross successful slaves mechanically waddling,
then I am more than radical, I want to work a guillotine.

And when I see working men
pale and mean and insect-like, scuttling along
and living like lice, on poor money
and never looking up,
Then I wish, like Tiberius, the multitude had only one head
so that I could lop it off.

I feel that when people have gone utterly sunless
they shouldn’t exist.


Smriti Choudhary is a promising young Poet. She studies English literature at Patna women’s college. She can be contacted at choudharysmriti9@gmail.com

Categorized in: