Emperor
The emperor stands at the roadside, grinning
He wears a ready smile,
And dusty, once black shoes.
On his shoulder, the weight of the world,
A yellow satchel of homework.
He is only fourteen.
Sucks at cricket, runs his feet around
A football, often gets passed by.
We do not see his blue blood.
Had the Ahom kings lived on,
Our Moyukh would one day be
King of the World
It is funny, he would say, from his perch,
A tree branch, by the street.
Watching how things turned out.
Amlanjyoti Goswami’s poems have appeared in The Caravan, Mint, IQ: The Indian Quarterly, Indian Literature (Sahitya Akademi), The North East Review and The Poetry Shed. His stories have been published by Himal SouthAsian and Papercuts: Desi Writers Lounge. He grew up in Guwahati, Assam and lives in Delhi.