Ask me if I knew whether happiness was love
love being sorrow postponed for good behavior
love being gentle as a cool October breeze
happiness, a dream deferred, happens with a shove
an older brother and a street full of his friends
pretend, mine as well, even St. Francis Xavier
pretends in Goa, the Inquisition will ease
yet another priest, to convert with a black sword
families travel west, immigrants with a zoom lens
ancestors baptized enunciate their new name
maybe Portuguese was easy like Konkani
illiterate gods observed their renown, their fame
lost on worshippers, lost along with their rani
in their servitude to the cross of Christ, their Lord
enormous churches dismantle Hindu temples
shutter Muslim mosques, whatever their faith, the priest
asked them their new name to pronounce in Portuguese
relatives who fled no longer she who trembles
entering marriage by force not a forced marriage
ask if survival is better than a great feast
like pork vindaloo, sorpotel, rice, if you please
ignorance of rape was probably not unknown
kin fell in with kin, no love without miscarriage
even to sort out cousins with different last names
even to sort out priests behind closed doors, the past
affects the effects of fools and saints, all the same
chomping at the bit, I learned what I had amassed
honor as a joke, study was to pick a bone
urgent as the sword, unhappiness was my choice
not to get along, my mom called me hedgehog, spiky
hair gave rise to names, appellations, sobriquets
as for my brother, he called me weasel, a voice
partly animal, spoken by others, no trust
particularly, as a teen with my psyche
yolks and whites scrambled, Asterion in a maze
forgotten in school, I found ways by acting out
attention getting, to stand out, the upper crust
made me disappear into drugs then into books
if mentors exist, I knew none, not in real life
like for suggestions, directions, not dirty looks
yes, I knew nothing, a holy fool with no wife
if I could begin again from the start, I'd shout
save me from denial, ignorance and its shadows
unhappy at home, only want to be alone
no comfort to them, my family, mom, dad, brother
happy in my head, lost in the world, with no nose
a prodigious snout but no talent, no great gift
particularly in music, a bone crone drone
pretend she is cool, Sheila Chandra, no other
yet how she could sing, no more, burning mouth syndrome
if I were happy, I could not see how a rift
not only divides but partitions a nation
if they were happy without me then let them be
trying not to fix what isn't broken, station
self at a great length, let go and move on, a plea
or a cry for help, they say, all roads lead to Rome
wounded as a child, to rebuild Rome in a day
no one expects this, no one delivers this good
wind my way back home, as a snake through adulthood
ask me if I care to taste Goa, a tea tray
yet so far away, I lost my chance, think I should?
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