Third-Rate Indian English Poetry Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

If one reads Indian English poetry for the first time,
One will be in shocks
To find it,
Can poetry be as such,
The verse meaningless, substandard and derivative
And copious?

The slender-slender volumes of thinly-compiled verses,
Third-rate, below the quality and parodied,
A study in minor voices and slender anthologies,
Everything lost in the jungle of crowds,
Quantitatively bulky, but qualitatively weak.

Self-published books brought out by vanity press,
Once published not found again,
Finished for ever,
Never to be heard again,
The books out of stock
And the whereabouts of the obscure poet unknown,
Traceless, nowhere to be found again.