A Frame Somewhere Poem by Shruti Das

They are always in the news
those boys
those bad boys
who haunted the bushes
wolved good girls
shot the babies in their mother's arms
and little ones with satchels
in school dress. They are bad.
Alcoholed.
Hunted.
Framed in pictures
that good men like to look at
and straighten their collars
and re-tuck their smart clean shirts
under their belts.
The good men are tall
and full of smiles.
They wear gold rings on their fingers
and pat their pockets.
They clean their glasses with satin
and look with a twisted smile
at the bad boys
framed in pictures on the wall in front
and order for fresh garlands
incense sticks
and a cup of coffee.