Twenty First Century Paradise

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My favourite comedian
Is having a baby!
I smile to myself.

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Purple paint on a thin brush
Painting perfect petals!
I want to eat them.

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Slow motion onion toss!
Golden brown in the pan
This reel smells so good.

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Girls, in dresses with pockets
Red, blue, black—it’s an ad.
Fleeting annoyance.

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Girls, in sarees, they're dancing!
Viral tune makes me grin
What moves ya! Hit like.

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My favourite comedian is back with a banger
His deadpan expression pretending at anger
I pause for a bit,
Let this one repeat,
And laugh, but then, once more, I choose to

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Take papad, add maggi,

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Do this to be happy:

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Hot guy

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Must try—

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No time to savour
Neck hurts, roll over
That was a good meme
Click, click, send to him
How long has it been?
Oh shit.. an hour
OK, just one more—

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I wrote this poem for the Ink and Quill Collective’s April Poetry Writing Challenge. On 1st April, the prompt was ‘A Fool’s Paradise’. I thought of the hour I had spent sitting on the couch the previous night, watching stunning, hilarious, annoying, mouth-watering, heartwarming, electrifying reels. One after another after another. Each one the culmination of days or weeks of work; endless entertainment at my fingertips. If this is not paradise, what is?

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