This poem is all you can afford . It is dirt cheap . It is about dirt. You can have it , while sipping masala chai at a dirty age .
Sipping masala tea
We pick, in dirt, fallen flowers
For gods to smell a darkness.
Dirt is fresh dust in our dawn,
Walking dirt from dog’s bark.
We pick our dirt on our faces
From children in their tatters.
We are sipping a masala tea
With the strange poet of dirt.
(On reading a review of a poetry collection entitled Dirt by William Letford in the Guardian)
We said age? We meant cafe but auto- correct would have it as age. We make do with age. Because we are sipping tea with a man who is traveling on a wedding anniversary gift from his wife. So age may be ok but not dirty age . We are not dirty old men.
We do not come cheap. We may not make money on poems . But poems do not come cheap . Masala chai does not come cheap.