Street Singer Poem by Raj Arumugam

I sing in the streets
in any shop that has a door
and where the owner
will put money in my palm;
and I walk off in a hurry
to the next gig or joint


One must live and eat;
one must have a roof
over one's head
and walls to keep out the cold
and the easy night-wanderers

so I will sing where there is pay
I will sing what the payer wants
(which is what their customer wants)

Your song is never yours



There is no question of art
(that is a luxury,
a poor singer cannot afford)
just anything that can entertain
and more often titillate


Your song is not yours,
soon you know
Your performance
does not stick to you
You can go home
and dream of any way you want
but in the streets you must sing
the way the passers-by fancy

Your song is never yours