Eggcracy Poem by Jinnuraine Jaigirdar

No hall for speech,
No table for debate,
No roof for the citizen's head—
Only sky,
Sunless,
Choked with dust.

No palace for schemers,
No barracks for drums,
No parliament for hollow echoes—
Only wind,
Only alleys,
Only streets that sulk in gloom.

No river to cleanse,
No ocean to carry hope,
No garden to plant a flag,
No window to open for love—
Only flames licking the highway,
Only exile, renamed as homeland.

No civility, no courtesy,
No questions left to ask—
Only the grand vocation of blocking,
Of snarling,
Of opposing for its own applause.

And in this republic of rudeness,
eggs are medals of honour,
flung with pride,
a national gratuity—
the yolk of our democracy.