Why lift the boundaries? (vision with the line of a wave of birds, thousands of them, coming up from the ground and into the sky in one solid waterfall-like movement but going up. This happened as I was sitting on a park bench)
To go through life together under the Sun.
To be ourselves with other people,
but ourselves alone too.
To give that boy what he needs,
and he needs an involved I love you son
wrapped around me.
To change the world.
We’re not messin’ around.

Now have we been put on hold,
for the umpteenth time?
Will I awake?
Call me,
senior advocate.
Very closely nearly there.
You better let me.
I’ll delete everything,
and you got your seer no more.
What is it,
a love reaction?
You’ve betrayed the very essence of reality
in my fundamental makeup,
in my fundamental see,
if we don’t come together,
and I will know that the world is a fucked place we’re doomed.

And if we set ‘em sir,
and if they’re not here,
what is their placement?
You can sit us in your organizing society,
and we will show you where we rose.
We’ll be here
master plan.

I’m getting close I can’t stay yours.
I’m a learning disability.
Daddy do something about that girl. (vision with the line of a big man walking beside me with a black beetle in his mouth, and he was choking on it, and I was slapping his back to get it out)
You’re dyslexic that’s okay.
Your mother can’t punish that no more.
I will take you with me,
and you can be dyslexic in my school.
I love you so very much.
Next week,
I promise.

Start happening!
Start happening!
I looked at it, [this line and the two above lines heard spoken in Nithish’s voice]
and exactly
as you said
it happened.
I want to know what your vision was.
Momma laid her feet on me.
All’s I could feel
was our deep, undying love
taking me to the lake.
I will be there soon.

You will paint some rosy picture that I am to blame.
I’m a Facebook mob.
Oh I’m sorry, seven views.
On WordPress there’s two.
And Nithish,
I see him now.
His mother has replaced me,
and he let her do it.
The hugs, the kisses, the warm rubs,
the excited talk about this and that,
that woman who beat him has replaced me,
and he’s happy with it.
I can see the treatment.
He’s a baby
Sandiya told me on the phone.
She’s gettin’ her juice.
Before she would not even admit he was still a child.

Okay they go together.
What am I still doing here?
What the fuck, over?
You have replaced all my lands.
You have taken my very child
and given that place I have with him
to someone else,
and they beat him and they slap him,
and they lord it over his life.
What more do you want from me?
Why do I have to see that?

I have been betrayed in the sense of my stuff,
by a little boy that took all of my heart
and always wanted more.
Where is release from this?

He’s still won’t speak my name to his parents.
Get that,
won’t even say he wants to see me,
the love of his life for all these years.
What blackness is in the heart of children?
What cruelty lurks behind their touch,
wizziles with you in their face?

This is blind cruelty.
The boy just wants to get by.
To hell with me,
as long as he gets his good food
and bag of sweets
and special treatment.
He’s cast me aside,
and I made so much noise,
whenever he called,
it forced him to call me
and come out of his stupor
face me a moment,
come out of his animal bliss.

We’re dealing with a kid from the train yard.
Whatever divine element in him,
he has just gotten rid of.
What do you do with such a kid?
He will never speak up.
He’s satisfied.
He’s got his parents’ attention,
and is the focus of so much love,
even if it’s for his parents to have him and not for him.
This operation sucks.

Do we rock that poem on Main Street
and show it to the kid?
I’m not happy with this boy.
He’ll walk the room
listening for phone calls,
listening for Nithish.
Man-managed plan
develop on rainbows.
Let’s look at that replacement line.
Ruth, this is daddy.
Now I’ll call you mother.
There a step-mother sleeps.
And you never got close to her,
but you were dependent,
a little child,
and you had to look to someone to take care of you.
She was mean.
She was a monster,
but you called her mother,
and that was your choice.

You hated the relationship.
You cried and cried.
You really tried to please her,
took her assessment of you
as conscious fact,
believed her
when she came crashing down on you
for just leaving your boats in the yard:
you were a bad boy.

She saw you naked,
washed your back in the tub.
She combed your hair before school in the morning
and fussed over your clothes,
and you hated that woman.
You were 10 and 11, no?
She was just so mean to you.
“Get up you little bastard it’s time for school.”
“I know you like a book.
You’re no good,
and your father’s no good.”
That really sucked.

The constant tirade
coming out of her mouth
she flushed at you,
anytime you were in earshot,
that did you in.
You hid in the woods for hours,
until your father came home,
and he was no gentle lover.
A stern man with whippin’s,
that’s what he gave.

Now look at Nithish.
He’s making the best of a bad situation.
He’s being punished for loving you,
and no one seems to notice that.
In his heart it’s liberation towards you,
like you felt towards your mother,
only she didn’t want you back,
was not on the edge of consciousness night and day
trying to carry your pain.
That boy has got you,
and you’re all he’s got.

Can we mention this
to the world at large?
A boy has a man he’s loved all his life,
who’s taken care of him more than his parents,
and for that he has been so traumatized
that he’s died inside.
He’s still loves this man,
and so much time his parents have spent
to kill this in him.
What the fuck, over?
Are you listening to this?
Can they do that?
Just because he loves me
he’s gone through so much punishment,
gaslighting,
brainwashing,
and psychological torture:
here boy, love this man?
Let’s go to a fine restaurant.
I’ll take you to a spa.
Forget him, forget him, forget him.

But it doesn’t work,
and the parents are frustrated.
They don’t know their son.
Okay we just ride this,
let it be?
The boy’s better off
just doing his school work?
I beg your pardon?
You put a child through hell
and say it’s for good grades in school?
That’s his reason for living,
why he can’t have this man?
That’s an eight standard education talking,
his mother’s.
This man is a Classical Greek scholar,
and knows dyslexia when he sees it.

Oh beanpoles,
you will not get away with this.
I’m comin’ for that boy,
and I’m comin’ loud and clear,
and I’m bringin’ the posse,
and I’m bringin’ the cavalry,
and if Indians don’t know matters of the heart,
just say yeah beat the children,
let them lick their parents’ spoon,
Americans know better,
and they’re on the way out of this,
and that’s who I’ve employed.

Aerosmith,
it’s Aerosmith
to tell you that American thing,
lights out on total control
and ever remember your dreams.
Got some Pink Floyd here.
American music,
there’s music there for the land Earth,
and it sticks in your craw
like a love song.
You hear our anthem here.
Won’t you buy a little American pie?
We don’t doubt the man does.
Are you afraid the boy does?
And I’m not givin’ the lowdown on abuse.
That’s magic in love,
a parental man for his little son,
a big boy for his best friend,
a man and a boy who love each other.
Hear it?

We gather you in poems,
one after another.
Can you speak that far?
I don’t think you’re over the fence,
one foot process from stuck in the craw to living school.
You don’t know how.
That’s saving grace,
whether you know it or not.
Come on let’s ballon,
and let’s give this keeper his time shares.
He’s keepin’ a boy safe from harm.
You know his mother reads this,
reluctantly,
somehow,
despite herself.
We take her there.
For the poems now. (vision with the line of someone offering two  Rupees notes, one a large denomination and the other a bit smaller, but it was big money)
I get paid in regard
and help this little boy,
not a baby in the room,
not even a chair.

He’s been taken out of the picture by his mother,
and no one can question him a thing
about where his mother is taking him,
if she’s not in the room.
A boy of 12 see that,
no will of his own,
year there’s a civilization on record,
mluv pomaleji prosím. (vision with the line of being on a bicycle and turning to my passenger behind me and saying that Czech phrase, putting my finger to my lips so to say be quiet).
May I help you with that?
Expressive of their will is expressive of their life.
Don’t deny them that,
and you’re off to the races.
Don’t put down later.
Pretty much
give him to the public.
Hey, what color of a shirt didn’t he didn’t wearing today?
The color his parents choose for him.
A raccoon
was not a ground speaker,
but he lifted up his head.
The voice is in the room.

Is that what you want society,
another person dependent upon society
to be his mother?
No will of his own,
that blooms.
He can’t find himself.
He might even kill you,
the manhood takes its stand.
Robbed of his will
right there where he becomes a man,
just entering the body changes of adolescence.
Can you say that?
Just tell me what to do okay,
that’s what we hear.
Sure society,
that’s what you want,
a world of beggars please.
Let’s study this room.
See Nithish.

Okay Nithish,
I forgive you son.
It’s not your fault.
You’re not to blame,
and I will see you soon.