I Smoking A Cigar As For To Be Eliot, Auden Or Spender Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

Friend, you call me a great poet,
I shall also call you a great poet
And if to go deep into,
We are not less than anyone else.

Like the feudal lord, let me lie in
With my legs on the table,
I lying on the sofa,
You sitting before and I in my reclining state.

In the meantime, tea comes in
And the poet stands up as for the tea-break,
Keeps sipping
And chatting about poetry.

Let me smoke a cigar and think of,
I want to be Eliot, Auden, Spender,
You just arrange the table for the conference
To be held.

I smoking a cigar and thinking,
Ashes shaken into the ash-tray,
The burnign cigar held in between the fingers
And I thinking of becoming Eliot, Auden, Spender.






















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