KONICA MINOLTA DIGITAL CAMERA

There is no sense in wondering
Where each person comes from,
In a land that fuels the dream engine.
Here people live and die, on the promise of a dream,
That like a reverie, multiplies
And divides, as we climb a ladder
To reach out to a taller rack,
Inside a warehouse, which stockpiles dreams.
In plain simple anatomy, this is just a house
Pumping blood to lungs and
The rest of the body – At least we locate it there.
Unlike the man with a Honors degree
In Biology, from a university in Sri Lanka,
Who runs a shop that sells porn in New York.
You presume he pawned away his dreams
To be a biologist, and just like so many
Migrants, strayed off, the road map.
The road that the dream travels on,
Is sometimes too foggy, fear and doubt
Making you wipe the windscreen frantically,
Knowing we don’t have fog lights,
For the times, the fog rules.
The actual difference between porn and pawn is,
One is a biological transaction,
And the other is financial. And so
The Sri Lankan man sleeps better at night
Knowing he is selling the oldest tradition of them all,
With newer twists. I guess when
You look at sex, it too is like biology,
Being a study of the diversity of forms,
And their functions. I presume, the Sri Lankan
Biologist must be telling, the difference
Between the baculum and the human penis
To his customers, knowing one is bone
And the other is soft tissue.
There always was a biology lesson in porn;
How the monkey bone was lost in man,
To evolve the suppleness of a feeling
Empowering an oblong organ.
And so, a beautiful story was narrated,
As to why, the boner in man,
Was deprived of any bone.

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