Mumbai Mud Fight

Forget about all of that, we've a game to play.

Smear some mud on my face, and I'll smear some on yours.

See? We're even.

You and I,

Me and You.

The eunuch down the street and the slumlord over our heads.

Just like before, before the days of movie cameras,

And reporters breathing down our necks,

Fake sheiks, and real ones too.

Back when only a few people knew my face, and fewer cared.

So let's cover our faces with mud,

And see if the cameras notice the floods,

The chickens flocking to the tops of their coops

The people flocking more and more to our metal tent homes

And the milk jugs and plastic backs flocking about our feet.

Funny, as you dunk the gray water on my head,

It makes me think of the spotlights on the stage

Red curtains instead of corrugated walls

Silk instead of patches

Jewels instead of the mud

I'm about to smear on your laughing face.