twisted in kind agony,
awash in hurried beats – I escaped walls to lectures
on how to stand knee deep in antiquity,
waiting for love to plumb, make whiny.
we’re all merry, enough – to forget a year we’ve passed.
we’re to ratiocinate vagrancies, with remorse.
but seduced by shapes, wanton geometry makes
me pluck it with my lips like a pin off a grenade,
and at times close to touch meaning, like a man, I spot faces hidden with powder cowering.
I am held back spying upon – by their anger curt,
wilted by abundance of light and no dirt.
they’ve jumped to the first age – their flesh truant.
doom struck at noon, lurched back to life,
done away with the nasty, we stuffed our troubles away.
we’ll continue to borrow our fellows’ stories.
we’re done for today.
– Shibaji Ray