—a poem by Pushkar Raj

Not a day goes by when I do not indulge in a cockfight. 
Scathed, jarred, bruised, disoriented I emerge…
Carried home on a stretcher, gagged with few green bills. 
Promised a bigger stage, I stutter into the ring... 
Donning colored goggles, little aware of the camouflaged trap, 
I trip and fall. 
I rise only to be nailed to the desk cross. 
Judged and condemned, I am shown the door…
Pushed into the wilderness.  
Baked and fried, I am served dried with salted peanuts. 
Feast on me!

Pushkar Raj is a senior marketing analyst at Dunnhumby, India. His day-time job involves number crunching and preparing marketing strategies for retail clients. Pushkar has strong interest in World Literature and philosophy. He often writes poetry and Short stories when hit by a sudden bout of inspiration. He has also presented a literary paper on Popular Romance in an international conference held in Queensland University, Brisbane.