Each time he bends down to tie his shoe-laces
He sees an inverted world, of a clumsy blue sky
Supervalently fallen on a sprawling globe-earth
So he does not know the blue sky from the earth.
He looks up and finds women’s breasts looming
Like a Pacific isle tsunami on the plains of cars
Brown-mud and paper houses, people and flotsam.
His world-view gets distorted of caring mothers
And nubile daughters with overflowing breasts.
The lace tying may have triggered such a view.
It is the girls’ eyes that stare at him of passing
His fantasies play out daily in their noon shadows.
His distortion does not lie in their overflowingness
But in the topsy-turvy of a dizzy earth-sky scene
Largely drawn from the tube of the small screen.
