LONE REARRANGER
[used as performance poetry demonstration in workshops]
Dinesh Allirajah

Whoops! There goes another rubber tree plant
Past my youth but still Iím an infant
Osmosis supposes Iíve a lot to learn
Miss Ross has left the building so now itís my turn
You may call me dusky, maybe inscrutable
Ethereral facts, concrete and irrefutable
Hammer home your point but Iím a bent nail
Hard to pin down so youíre bound to fail
Establishing the truth you perceive
itís all changed
But Iím a short-changer
Lone Re-Arranger
Stranger than fiction
In fact, deranged

I started on a tangent but I found myself sidetracked
Tried to be obscure but ended up abstract
Thought I was a journeyman, became a fellow traveller
Couldnít spell but then Abracadabra!
I mastered the tongue of my master before me
Took the words right out his mouth and he never saw me
My terms were seasoned when I spat them back
Polish abolished, limitations I lack
Like an animated mannequin, a Caliban unchained
And Iím the avenger
Lone Re-Arranger
Stranger than fiction
In fact, deranged

Coconut whisky inside my hip-flask
Got no silver bullet and I donít wear a mask
The only hoarse I know
is that the end of each rhyme
Serendipity
call me sublime
No copyright, I donít own the air
But donít bank on what I saw because the actionís elsewhere
And Iím enigmatic, bizarre, disingenuous
Iíd go berserk but the workís too strenuous
Instead I leak like gas and then I go up in flames
Iím a hidden danger
Lone Re-Arranger
Stranger than fiction
In fact, deranged

Last verse ...

I got high hopes for the finish
Summon up more strength than Popeye on spinach
Wail like a Stradivarius but not highly-strung
They say verbosityís wasted on the young
Lyrical fantasizingís a calling for life
Iím butter, words are a knife
Images collide within a cut-up lexicon
Rhythms so greasy theyíll fuel a pantechnicon
Enough of a charge to launch a military campaign
But Iím a disclaimer
Lone Re-Arranger
Stranger than fiction
In fact, deranged


© Dinesh Allirajah 2004