hungry caste

By Jay Rathod

our complaints are shameful

our words are garbage

our love never reaches

our children disown us

our faces hide behind some shrine

our houses stink

the hungry caste devours without abandon

we see raw wounds splatter demonic liquids

the hungry caste feasts on our molten flesh, drinks out our blood

rotting corpses lay on every street

the hungry caste even gobbles up the left fat

we scream for help

‘Jai bhim’ after death means nothing

what face do you protest with

don’t speak more, never speak more

don’t call the ordinary people monsters

know your place

know your place

But never forget

You will always have a place in

Baba’s ocean

You will always have a place in

Baba’s ocean

About Jay: Jay Rathod is a second-generation Dalit learner whose interest lies in culture/counter-cultures.