Treasure Island

Bijay Kant Dubey


Mr. Poestaster As The Editor of A Literary Journal, The Founding Father, I Mean The Poet-critic-essayist-and-reviewer


O, see you, I have, have tunred into a literary journal editor,
O, I have become become!
'What, what, sir?
What have you, have you become? '

O, I have, I have turned, turned into an editor
Of a literary journal
And now, now the poets will write to me,
Professors will cringe me!

Lo, lo, I have turned, tured into a big boss,
Call you me a boss, a big boss,
A big literary bosss!
'Whose boss are you? What have you turned into? '
Mr.Fool, you won't, won't not understand, understand me,
A litterateur I, what a fool will say about?

Call me, call me, Virgil.
'What, sir? '
Call me, call me, Homer.
'What, sir? '
Call me, call me, Horace.
'What sir, what sir? Horace, Virgil and Homer?
I have not the names so great.'

I have a plan, a plan for the greatness scheme.
'What that, sir? '
You give me your e-mail id and the password.
'Why, sir? '
You will not understand.
I shall write a paper on my poetry myself
And shall it to other editors
Through your e-mail id.

Mr. Fool, will you ever remain a fool
Or want you to be a scholar in my company?
'Why, sir? '
Give me, give me and if give you,
I shall place your name as the packager of my journals.

I am the founder father, mother, brother and sister
Of my journal,
The founding father,
A poet, critic, editor, reviewer and essayist am I,
A scholar classical, romantic and satiric.

Mr.Poetaster bringing out the paper of other poetaster
In his journal
And his friend on him,
Even the university heads obliging him
By registering research scholars on his poetry
As for his paper publication in his journal.

Submitted: Friday, September 27, 2013
Edited: Monday, September 30, 2013

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