It ain’t over until it’s over, dahlings. Until then, suck it up and deal with the rotten verse. Orange Sadistic Jammies is on a rrrrrrrrroll! 
*******
Vivaldi is straining
To tell us there are four seasons
Above the thunder of the Indian third,
And the boom of drums
And tramping feet
And idol-cart squeaky wheels;
A minority Italian
In a roaring Indian nation
Drowned out,
Marooned,
Amid decibel peaks,
While a clay elephant head
Smirks at his isolation
And trumpets noiselessly
To crown the din.
*******
Wisdom Wears Neon Pyjamas 
Oooo, i like this — am FTC
On this day of G-Chaturti
For whatever its worth
On his day of birth
Lets celebrate with this irrelevant(?) poetry!
Aunty G: I’m more irreverent than irrelevant. 😉 But never mind that. Thanks for the trivia. Had no clue G-Chaturthi was a birthday. But then again, the din I’ve described above doesn’t permit any thinking.